Dragons and Wolves: DaenerysJon
by Stormborn Soul
Summary: What's more terrifying? Losing your kingdom or your heart? She's conquered the rest of the world, only the North stands in her way. (Daenerys/Jon) (Also posted in the ASOIAF section) (Minor book spoilers)
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **__** Hello ASOIAF/GoT fans! Whether or not the book series or tv show brought you here, I do hope you enjoy this story! A few tidbits to rememer:**_

_**1. Story takes place ten years ahead of A Storm of Swords or season 3 for you guys who just watch the series on HBO. A lot of the events after season 3/ASOS are similar but a lot of them are my own ideas and not cannon. Also, people change in ten years, half of the characters in this were young children or teenagers during the first 3 books/seasons, PEOPLE CHANGE! :) (in other words, please stop reviewing complaining about it, this is a FANFICTION) **_

_**2. The remaining Stark children have returned to Winterfell (explained in story)**_

_**3. Dany has just now taken over King's Landing**_

_**4. There will be some side pairings: Arya/Gendry and Sansa/(youger)Hound**_

_**5. I know the rumors about Jon being the love child of Rhaegar and Lyanna, I can't stand reading incest fics so I'm taking it in a different direction.**_

_**6. This story will focus on all of the Stark family, not just Jon. **_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the series or the characters, they belong to the brilliant George R.R. Martin**_

_**Disclaimer 2: Also posted under the A Song of Ice and Fire section  
**_

_**Warning: This story is rated M for language and violence and later for things of a sexual nature.**_

* * *

Jon placed Bran's twelve page letter down on his old desk and ran his hand over his face. What was he going to do?  
This dragon queen was just as ferocious as her leathery pets were and about a thousand times as irritating.  
In the year since she came to power he hadn't really had a problem with her, not since she had flown to the Wall on her dragons. But he worried for Bran down in King's Landing, when he had left his heart had leapt in his throat. He remembered his father going south, his brother Rob going south, look what had happened to those two?  
A mangled sigh escaped through his clenched teeth. He remembered the day he'd met the Dragon Woman.

_It was frigid that night, just like every other night. Jon looked to Sansa, her cheeks and ears were bright red. She hadn't adjusted to the cold yet, she's been so long in the South. It made him sad, he remembered playing in the snow all through their childhoods and here she was, a Southern girl now._  
_They were watching Arya train Rickon. Arya was nineteen now and still the favorite of his siblings. She had always been a little tomboy but now she was a full fledged assassin, having trained with the Faceless ones of the far East. Rickon was big for twelve, at least a full head taller than his older sister and yet she was making a fool out of him._

_"Idiot! Don't duck when I swing at you!" Arya screeched. Jon grimaced, her voice was just as high pitched and grating as before._

_"Why not?!" Rickon yelled back, his voice cracked. Poor bugger was going through puberty. You couldn't pay Jon enough money to go through it again._

_"I could easily knock you on the head with my hilt or slice your useless head clean off your shoulders!" Arya snickered swinging again. Rickon jumped back this time but almost dropped his sword in the process. Jon sighed, at least he was learning._

_He turned his eyes to Stannis and the sorceress on his lap. Jon may have been the Commander of the Night's Watch and the one who had united the Wildlings but Stannis still considered himself a King. Jon had no particular interest in him, the Watch and the Wildlings alike were loyal to him but Stannis' men and their strange religion were getting annoying, always burning things but as long as they kept bringing their shipments of food they were welcome. And yet, he couldn't wait until Stannis himself decided to travel south again and try to once again conquer King's Landing but with him at the wall for nearly eight years now, Jon's hope was dwindling._

_But it didn't matter, Jon was happy. He had his siblings back, Ghost at his feet and his best friend Sam at his right. Summer was cold and winter was worse but his last name wasn't Snow for anything, he was made for the cold._

_"W-what is that?" Sansa asked, her chattering teeth jarring Jon from his thoughts. One delicate finger pointed into the dark sky._

_"A star perhaps? Polaris is in that direction" Sam suggested, playing with his Meister's chain. He looked at Sansa blushing, Jon suspected his friend had a bit of a crush on the girl. As did most of his men, his little sister was quite the beauty and he had even heard Stannis talk of arranging a marriage. But Jon would rather go to war with the man before he let somebody take his siblings away from him again._

_Jon squinted up at the object in the sky, "It's moving, it can't be a star."_

_"A shooting star then?" Same answered, still giving Sansa shy glances._

_"No it's funny shaped, not circular." Sansa pulled her Stark white cloak closer around her._  
_From the white object came a burst of fire, stopping everybody in the area. Tommen dropped his sword and Arya took the chance to knock him on his ass._

_"Arya!" Jon snapped. Arya shrugged and winked at him, sheathing her sword Needle, the one he had given her all those years ago._

_It was a moment later when the white dragon landed with an even larger black dragon just behind it._

_All of his men immediately drew their swords and for a moment he felt a swell of pride, he'd managed to turn this lot of criminals into knights of the night. Even after they had attempted to betray him before, when he wanted to ride South to war. He shook the though away and drew Longclaw, the sword his old commander had given him. Ghost rose from his haunches and growled at the great lizards._

_Strange clothed men wearing leathery vests and pants jumped down from the white dragon and ran to the black and pulled a women down._

_It was her… The Dragon Woman. Her men dropped to their knees, thumping a fist over their chests in salute._

_"Who are you woman?" Stannis yelled, always the eloquent bastard. Jon couldn't see the logic in irritating a woman who just happened to own the only fire breathing lizards in the world._

_She walked closer, "I guess word from the south hasn't reached yet. I'm Daenerys Stormborn Queen of the Seven Kingdoms as well as the Far East."_

_Jon's eyes drank her in, she was dressed like her men, even wearing pants. Her silvery hair matched the Valyrian steel of Longclaw, she even had a baby silver dragon sitting on her shoulder._

_"What do you want False Queen?" Stannis asked, his men tensed behind him. Even they thought trying to antagonize the woman was a bad idea. But Jon had to commend him for his bravado._

_"I want you to bend the knee for your new queen, I even made it convenient for you and rode here overnight." She smiled unfazed, a sarcastic smirk on her lips. A man walked up behind her, older with shaggy brown hair, a King's Hand pin clipped to his chest, well a Queen's Hand pin in this case Jon mused._

_"I won't bend the knee to a twelve year old, especially a Dothraki horse lord whore." Stannis countered. The crowd could sense the unease in the air. The Queen's soldiers, Dothraki and Unsullied Warriors alike drew their strange but sharp weapons._

_The Queen's lavender eyes were as dangerous as her dragons, "I'll have you know Ser I am twenty five and you must bend the knee to me."_

_"And why is that Targaryen? Will you burn me in my armor like your father enjoyed doing? You might just get a sword in your back just like him. I AM the rightful king, the only king of Westeros, I'll never bend my knee to a vapid little girl."_

_To everyone's shock she started laughing, "You've got balls old man, but not for long. Rhaego might want a snack."_

_She pet the baby silver dragon on her chest, "You call yourself a king? What are you but the boytoy of your little sorceress, sitting up here on this ice wall getting fatter and older by the second. I took King's Landing and won, without hurting anybody. What did you do? Killed thousands and STILL lost. Don't make me laugh, you're not a king just a pathetic old man with a small penis complex."_

_Jon heard Arya giggle under her breath, Jon sighed again, at least she was at ease. She was damn sure the only one._

_"This kind of insolence will not be tolerated, you will show the rightful king his respect!" Melisandre stepped forward, shooting magical fire at the Dragon Queen._

_Everyone gasped as the giant fireball engulfed the field. A second before the fireball hit the Queen's group her black dragon dove forward knocking them all back and blocking them with his black wings, they were as big as a castle and kept them uncharred. But the fireball hit the queen and her baby dragon Rhaego head on._

_The crowd gasped, even his trained warriors of the Night's Watch. Sam's eyes were as wide as oranges were round._

_The fire cleared and the Queen looked fine, her leathery clothes were charred, revealing soft patches of pale skin but otherwise she was just as well as before, not a hair out of place._

_Melisandre stopped, looking dumbfounded. "How are you alive?"_

_"I'm the mother of Dragons, your queen, now bend the knee." She looked around to the crowd. Her violet eyes were steel._

_Everyone in the crowd bent their knees except Stannis, Melisandre and Jon._

_Her black dragon shot fire back at Melisandre, his flame was as black as the night, melting the bright white snow beneath them and the sorceress in her place. The sorceress collapsed, a scorched heap in the snow. Stannis ran over to his love._

_"Drogon stop!" The queen yelled and the big dragon settled down, looking at his adopted mother. She shook her head at him and frowned but he nodded in response, his gigantic mouth stretched in a toothy smile. She raised an eyebrow at him and pointed to the white dragon. The black dragon Drogon stampeded over to the white dragon and settled next to it, looking sad. Jon wanted to laugh, she just put her dragon in time-out._

_Daenerys eyes traveled to Jon and he felt like a teenage boy again under her gaze, nervous and not quite sure where to put his hands. Eventually he sheathed his sword and met her gaze. "And who are you? Why are you not kneeling?"_

_"I am Jon Snow, Commander of the Night's Watch. The Night Watch's mission is to guard the wall and keep the beasts beyond it from escaping, we are independent of any leader or monarchy, kingless—well queenless in this case. Nonetheless I will not bend my knee."_

_"Jon," Sansa whispered next to him, her voice veined in worry._

_Daenerys looked to the man next to her, her Hand._

_"It's true, they have no king, when I was disgraced my father left my mother and took the black and was the commander for many years. I believe this bastard is his protégé and successor."_

_"He is NOT a bastard! He is a Stark! Jon Stark, King of the Night's Watch and the North!" Rickon yelled at the man. Arya elbowed Rickon in the stomach. "Oooof!"_

_"I am not a king I assure you but yes I am Jeor's successor, you must be his son Jorah?" Jon asked and the Hand nodded._

_"Your father gave me Longclaw after I saved his life, I believe it belongs to House Mormont," Jon moved to hand the sword over. "The Starks lost our family sword Ice when King Joffrey executed our father, we still mourn him and Ice's loss. I'd like to return Longclaw."_

_Jorah stared sadly at Longclaw, "If he wanted me to have it he would have given it to me, he wanted you to have it and so do I. And even its name befits you, with that long clawed beast you have."_  
_Jon smiled and Ghost looked up at him with his red eyes, knowing he was being spoken of._

_Daenerys looked away, losing interest and Jon finally exhaled, under that lavender gaze he was finding it hard to articulate and especially relax._

_"Now what of you Stannis? All of your men have bent the knee and your underling has tried to kill me, that's grounds for execution," Daenerys tried to stare him down. "I don't want to kill you, even though your family destroyed mine, I don't want to take your life."_

_"It's what you're going to have to do," Stannis sneered, "I'll never stop trying to dethrone you, kill you with my barehands for what you've done to Melisandre."_

_The Queen gave an exagerated sigh, "So be it."_

_"Any takers Queensguard?" Jorah asked._  
_Daenerys turned and look away, as a Dothraki walked forward carrying a strange sword, it looked half sword half scythe._

_Stannis straightened his crown and knelt in the snow, his head held high._

_"Go ahead Rakharo, he's making it easy," Jorah sighed._

_Stannis' own King's Hand Davos looked to Jon with pleading eyes. Jon stared back, trying to convey that this must happen. Westeros could not have peace with a man like Stannis walking around, sanity destroyed by a powerful sorceress._

_Rakharo the Dothraki took Stannis' head._

_The white dragon stepped forward this time, breathing golden flames on Stannis' body, incinerating it._

_"Your majesty, I ask that you make the same deal with the Night's Watch that all the Kings of Westeros had before, your father did this as well," Jon spoke up._

_Daenerys turned back, "I'm listening."_

_"Clear your dungeons so often and send your men up here. Give every man awaiting execution as choice, death or life on this ice wall. If they do they'll never be able to leave alive, never take a wife, never own any land or property and they'll be away from the cities with your citizens."_

_"That sounds reasonable, I agree," Daenerys nodded, "I guess my business is done here for now, unless anybody else wants a taste of Rakharo's arakh."_

_Jon shook his head, arakh was the name of that strange sword. He kind of wanted one, his glance left__Daenerys and went to Arya. He could see she wanted her own arakh._

_"Wait!" Daenerys turned to leave but Bran stopped her. "Take me with you!"_

_"Bran! What madness is this?" Jon yelled._

_"I want to be trained as a meister, I can be Sam's apprentice when I get back."_

_"No, you're Lord Stark now, you can't." Arya yelled, stomping her tiny feet and crossing her arms._

_"No I'm not," Bran sighed reminding Jon a little too much of himself, "Remember I'm paralyzed? I can't defend Winterfell or the North. I can't even have children to carry on the Stark line. Give me this one small joy and make Rickon Lord Stark, you chose the black and I choose a meister's chain. "_

_"If the Queen doesn't mind? Can your dragons carry one more?" Jon asked._

_"Jon! No!" Sansa begged, the south had killed and destroyed their lives, they belonged in the North, he knew how she felt, he felt the same but he couldn't deny his baby brother's happiness._

_"Shh Sansa," Jon gave her a silencing look._

_Jorah was the one who answered, "I guess it is reasonable but I don't think your direwolf will enjoy flying dragon back."_

_Bran pet Summer's fur, "We will meet again, I will be back home soon enough."_  
_Summer whimpered._

_"My body will be in King's Landing but at night in my dreams I'll run in the snow with you Summer," Bran pet his direwolf , soothed its cries._

_Hodor carried Bran to the Queen and Jorah atop her black dragon and her men grabbed Bran and helped him on. And then they flew off back into the dark sky. The white dragon looked like a shooting star again._

Jon knocked his fist onto his desk, he had been so stupid to let Bran go. He might as well be a political hostage now. Daenerys wanted to install some of her Dothraki soldiers in the North, have them be the wardens on the North. Only a Stark would sit on the throne of Winterfell and he would be damned before he let any woman—person hold his brother hostage and try to take his other brothers castle.

Something had to be done. He told his steward to bring Arya to him. Arya came in, in full armor. His brat sister was probably five feet at most and looked completely ridiculous in her armor. But that was to her advantage, nobody knew how incredibly dangerous the petite brat was.

He showed her Bran's letter.

Arya read it, her sharp eyes skimming it disinterest as first but she eventually began to look alarmed, "We have to do something."

"I hate to ask you of this but can you reassume your old assassin days from back across the Narrow Sea? I know you've put those horrible years behind you but—"

"Who said they're behind me?" Arya left him speechless when she ran her hand across her face, transforming into a thin middle aged man, a smirk on her/his lips, "Consider her dead Lord Snow."


	2. Chapter 2

**_Please leave a review! They make my day! :]_**

* * *

Chapter 2  
(Slight Storm of Swords and Feast for Crows spoilers, I'll try not to make them obvious)

"My lady what would you like us to do about the Starks of the North?" Grey Worm was kneeling in front of his queen. She never regretted buying him and the rest of the Unsullied in Astapor, they were unwaveringly loyal to her. And obedient, though she loved her Dothraki kin, they were just as stubborn as she.

Too bad most of her Unsullied had yet to make it across the Narrow Sea, only about a hundred had made it so far.

Daenerys twitched in her iron throne, it was an oddly itchy chair. She wondered if the kings before her had also been this uncomfortable or if it was just uncomfortable for a woman. She considered the ramifications of having it melted and formed into a new chair, one less gaudy. Would her people hate her for it? Or would it be a symbol of a new era, one free of mad kings like her father and the Baratheon boy?

Oh right, Grey Worm and the rest of her council were staring at her, "Hmm for now we leave them, their heir is only 12 and their eldest and smartest has no claim to the Stark name. For now let's send a small unit of Unsullied warriors to march through their lands. Not quite subtle but not quite a declaration of war either."

"But why make peace with the rest of the kingdom but intimidate the north?" Jorah asked.

"I have no quarrel with the North but they've been known to be stubborn people, I don't want to antagonize them to the point they rebel but I won't stand idly by while they call me the mad queen or the dragon lady. I've done nothing but good for King's Landing and the places nearby, my influence will reach them soon enough and they'll realize I'm the true ruler."

"You've been long out of Westeros Jorah," quipped Arstan-or Barristan Selmy as was his real name, "You missed Rob Stark's part in the War of Five Kings. These northerners will do anything for their independence. Even if it is against their better benefit."

"I head what happened to Rob Stark." Daenerys shook her head, from what she had heard he had been a kind and just man close to her age. The kind she would have tried to form an alliance marriage with.

"They even skinned his wolf too, the Freys made a cloak out of its pelt and gave it to Roose Bolton when he became the King of the North." Arstan's voice quivered, making Dany notice how old he was getting. He wasn't young when he had entered her service but now he was near hobbled. She had made him Captain of the City Guard, maybe she'd give him a more relaxed job.

"I heard Arya Stark slit him and his family's throats and took the pelt back and buried it in the Stark tomb with the rest of them when they retook Winterfell." Jorah tilted his head and side glanced at Dany. "For the Snow boy claiming that the Night's Watch has no allegiance to any monarchy, he was quick to use them to reconquer Winterfell from Bolton's men and those pirates."

"Well if they try to cause any trouble, they may just meet the same fate as Roose Bolton and—" Dany saw movement out of the corner of her eye, the crippled man Bran wheeling away. She wondered what he had heard.

* * *

_A month later_

It was remarkably easy for Arya to travel the King's Road compared to last time, she knew it was her male form to thank. As a young girl she had been prey for every monster on the King's Road, now she was the monster. After training all those years in Braavos, she was exceedingly dangerous. She knew Jon was the only one who took her seriously, even Sansa who used to look at her like she was a wild animal just looked at her like she was sad.

Who cared if she was sad? At least she was dangerous. She patted her chest, her poisoned tailors pins snug in their pocket. It was called Death's Nudge, slow to kill but fatal one hundred percent of the time. She snickered, and what a perfect disguise she had.

Who'd suspect a tailor? Any queen would fancy a new dress, get fit for it, no matter how good a tailor was the customer was always stuck with a pin or two. She would know, being highborn herself. And all Death's Nudge needed was the tiniest prick.

Arya walked through the gates of King's Landing, just as overcrowded as before. But oddly it didn't smell as badly as before. It looked cleaner and so did it's citizens. Arya walked past the pot shops, instead of selling road kill, rats and horsemeat they were selling vegetables and chickens, though she knew rat sellers were probably still rampant. She turned her eyes to the Red Keep, the castle the Queen's ancestors had built and where Arya's family had been destroyed.

She wished it was Queen Cersei she'd come to assassinate, or Joffrey. She had nearly died of laughter when Sansa had told her the story of Joffrey's death, poison. He had deserved a stab in the belly, bleeding out for hours until finally his heart struggled to pump blood and he'd start to suffocate until his heart gave out.

The Red Keep was beautiful without the heads on pikes decorating it, a decorative style Joffrey and his father had both been fond of. Instead the only thing marring the castle was a giant green dragon lounging languidly in the sun like a fat cat. Its scales were so bright they reflected like a massive emerald in the noon sky.

Arya couldn't bear to look when she passed where her father had been beheaded. And soon  
she passed into the sparkling bronze gates of the Red Keep. Dozens of citizens were pouring into the castle to try and get a look at the Dragon Queen. But three women dressed in Gold Cloaks guarded the massive ornate doors.

Arya made it up to the front. And a tiny brunette pushed her to the side.

"Excuse me," Arya said, her voice when wearing the tailor's body was deep. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Random search." The small woman smiled, placing a sharp but very ornate golden dagger to her throat. A much larger, less attractive version of her walked over and stared at Arya.

"Nym, why'd you pull this old goat over to the side?" The large one asked.

"Tyene said she smelled suspicious," Nym sang, "Go back to your business Obara, don't you have commoners to manhandle?"

"Bloody fuck, Tyene is strange as her light coloring is, I bet dad boned some Lannister whore or something to create the likes of you, who's heard of a Dornish woman with blonde hair?" Obara scowled, leaning her spear against a nearby wall she stared at Arya. "How do you smell suspicion on somebody?"

A blonde strutted over, in the same gold cloak as the other two, "He smells like poison… one I can't quite place but poison nonetheless."

"I'm a tailor, perhaps your smelling the dye I use on my fabrics," Arya was quick to counter.

"That seems plausible Tyene," Nym's grip on Arya lessened. "Let him in."

"I'm still not sure." Tyene muttered, she brought a pale hand to her lips and bit on a shiny fingernail.

"Well nothing like a ten hour interrogation and strip search to cure any doubt," Obara grinned.

Arya grit her teeth, "I am a citizen of Westeros, I have rights!"

The three just ignored her and continued their argument.

"Obara, if you want to fondle wrinkly old man balls go right ahead, just don't ask for my help," Tyene turned away, obviously losing interest, "I wasn't that suspicious of him, he just had a funny smell."

Nym snickered and Obara looked a little disspointed.

"Who are you women?" Arya asked, unable to quell the curiousity.

"We're the Sand Snakes, daughters of Oberyn Martell, the ruling family of Dorne." Nym smiled.

"What are Martells doing out of Dorne?"

"Our family supported the Targaryen's returning to power decades ago, the second our uncle, Prince of Dorne, learned of Queen Daenerys plan to conquer we immediately signed on," Nym smiled.

"Too bad it ended up being a peaceful conquering," Obara sighed, "I do love a blood bath."

"You're far too bloodthirsty for your own good, that's why people call you the dumb Sand Snake." Tyene grinned at her sister.

"Well at least I'm not the slutty one." Obara retorted.

"Don't look at me, Nym's the slut, ask her how many Dothrakis have Dothed her Raki." Tyene giggled.

"I can't quite remember the number," Nym frowned, sheathing her beautiful knife and rubbing the back of her neck.

This was getting ridiculous, what kind of queen would have these imbeciles guard her gate? Sure she hadn't seen many Unsullied or Dothraki about, probably a few hundred at most. But anything seemed to be better than this lot. Though that one had smelt Death's Nudge. Nonetheless, they were still stupid enough to let her pass.

"Can I enter the castle now? I have an appointment to give the queen a fitting."

"Whatever, whatever, just shut up," Nym shooed him off, like an animal begging for scraps.

Arya rolled her eyes and entered the castle. Phase one complete. Now came the hard part.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Please review! Thank you :]**_

* * *

_Daenerys reached up to Drogo, hoping to put her hand on his cheek but he was too tall. Sensing her intention he leaned down and she grazed his scruffy cheek, "We did it Drogo, we conquered the world. We've won our throne."_

_He smiled at her and caressed her cheek, "No, you did it, you've won your throne."_

_"No, I did this for us, I did it for our future and Rhaego our unborn son," Dany shook her head. He was speaking oddly well in her language._

_"You did it, you rallied all the peoples of the world under your banner, you raised the dragons to adulthood, it was you, not me or Rhaego," His strong face grew sad. "We're dead, you did this on your own."_

_Dany's chest ached, "I know that, I know it everyday, even so many years later my heart aches for you and our poor son and the future we could've had."_

_"I know this, if I had my choice I'd stay with you forever but that has not been the path given to us, horses weren't meant to run with dragons."_

_A wolf howled _

"My queen! Queen Daenerys!" Someone's hands were on her shoulders, shaking her.  
Dany's eyes opened and she jumped back, "Gods, what's going on?"

There were a dozen people gathered in her private bed chamber. She would've covered herself more but years in the far east had left her far less modest.

"Khaleesi, you've been in a dead sleep, we thought you wouldn't wake," Jorah looked near tears.

"It's alright everyone, I just needed to catch up on my beauty sleep, being the dragon queen doesn't mean I have to look like one," She smiled, "Now get out while I bathe and dress."

"Don't forget you have a fitting today my queen, you will have the finest clothing westeros can offer." Jorah said as he directed all of her Queen's guard out of the room.  
Dany was a little excited, she had never worn the fancy dresses with their bodices and corsets that the women of Westeros did. She jumped out of bed.

* * *

Arya found being a tall man very dizzy, she could hardly look at the ground. She had had the same problem all through her assassin training. It was just something her masters said came with her being so small, barely five feet tall and wearing the face of someone much taller.

She had somewhat adjusted during her few weeks on the kingsroad but being so tired was exacerbating it. Arya found the Head Servant, "I'm here to do a fitting for her majesty Queen Danaerys."

The old woman squeaked to follow her and Arya easily kept pace with the woman's quick little feet,  
"How long have you been a tailor?"

"About twenty years," Arya looked at the woman in disinterest, she had a job to do, no time to chit chat.

"Is there a Mrs. Tailor?" the old woman smiled at her, a slight blush tinged her wrinkled cheeks.

"Yes, we've been married since my tailor apprenticeship," Arya didn't miss a beat. Part of shapeshifting was having a good cover story.

"Oh," The woman looked down, a little disappointed. Arya wondered if she had been the head servant when Arya used to live here so long ago, "Queen Danaerys should be in here in a few minutes."

She left Arya in the room alone. Arya looked around, it was spacious, covered in mirrors, there was a large bay window, the obvious route for her escape. Therefore the way she would _not_ escape, scaling the sharp sides of the gigantic castle would draw enough attention from the crowd and she may lose her shapeshift too. She knelt to the floor and used one of her hidden knives to pry up a floorboard. It was a small spot, she'd have to shapeshift back to her own form to fit. It was risky but if the queen was dead who cared? She'd leave the window open, misleading the queen's guard and going into the caste walls.

Sometimes she was amazed by her evil genius, Jon would call it conceit but who cared what he thought?

The Queen entered with two Dothraki guards.

Arya knelt and bowed her head, "Your majesty."

Arya kissed the queen's hand.

"Thank you tailor, it is nice to me you, I'm quite excited about getting the same clothing as my people,"She smiled. "Maybe they'd think me less strange if I wore their fancy dress clothes than my Dothraki leathers."

Arya grinned back, "You look amazing in your Dothraki rags, just wait until you are in fine garb. Perhaps plum to compliment your pale skin and hair or a teal dress to contrast with those lavender eyes?"

"Well, I have no idea what you said but I'm putting my trust in you," The queen smiled and stepped forward.

Arya snickered in her head, it would be the worst mistake the dragon ever made.

* * *

Jon wandered the corridors of his head quarters, his mind ran a league a minute. Worried, terrified for Arya. _Hating himself_ for sentencing a woman to death, especially someone so young and like him, someone who had fought for survival and won, clawed and crawled their way to power. He hated that he had to send someone else to do his dirty work, like his father, he believed the only way to stay human was to do his own dirty work. But only Arya had the mastery to pull it off.

He closed his eyes, she'd have made her way into the castle by now. His heart thumped with an erratic beat, the queen had been so fierce, hadn't even flinched when that fireball had consumed her small frame. He closed his eyes, he remembered the fierce draconic gaze in her lavender eyes. In a way that look had reminded of fearless Ygritte, the only woman he'd ever been with and dead more than a decade.

He hadn't been able to get the dragoness from his mind. And it irritated him. It was fine to break vows under the orders of a superior ranger, undercover and on a mission. Like his relationship with Ygritte but he could never again break his oaths. He had to set an example for his men, chaste and abstinent.

He grit his teeth, rubbing his eyes with the butt of his hand. She was going to die anyway, he had sentenced the object to his late night thoughts to an early grave. Was this what power was? The guilt of having the power of life and death? He had to do it, for his family. For Bran, Sansa, Rickon and Arya he'd do anything to make them a home again. To turn the place they used to play in the snow and run with their direwolves back into it again. They were his responsibility now, he couldn't give into a curious attraction to the most dangerous woman in all the land. He was the eldest Stark in a way, their father's eldest son despite being a bastard, he was still the eldest and it was his responsibility to protect little Lord Rickon until he was old enough to defend Winterfell himself. To marry Sansa to someone kind and gentle, the men that were sung about in songs that she loved so much. To give Arya the freedom to do whatever she wanted.

He sighed in relief, he had managed to talk himself out of the guilt. For the Starks, he'd do anything.

They were two hours into the queen's fitting and Arya was truly playing her role. She had just got done measuring the queen, observing the fine scars that marred the queen's entire body. Her viewpoint of the woman changed, this throne was not one she'd easily won just by appearing with dragons. If her scars told any story, she'd fought tooth and nail to get where she was. Arya blinked and made her mind go blank. An assassin never got to know their target in a personal way, never sympathize with them, never respect them because at the end of the day a queen's body was the same as any commoners body, rotting meat.

* * *

Arya continued measuring the broadcloth pattern she had pinned to the queen, "This one looks quite elegant on you and does quite well for your cleavage, a fitting dress to attract a king."

"I don't need a king to hold my throne," Queen Daenerys examined herself in the mirror glass. "But I do like this dress, did you say you think it would look well in teal?"

"Yes in teal silk with some seafoam tulle and trim," Arya continued to pin. Through her glasses, she side glanced the queen's guard.

"Alright, let's switch to another dress pattern," Arya turned back to the little table they'd set up for her and pulled another folded broadcloth dress from her case. "This is the one I think would look good in plum."

Queen Daenerys moved to undress but Arya stopped her and turned to the Queen's guards, "A little privacy for her Majesty please?"

The guards seemed wary but the queen had made them leave the first time she had undressed too and after she waved them off, they went out the doors and stood outside. Arya helped her into the pattern.

"It's very loose on me," the Queen turned to one side then the other holding the dress against herself.

"Too loose."

"Here let me pin it for you," Arya pulled the poison pins from her belt.

* * *

Obara sat with her sister's at a table in the banquet room, stuffing their faces for lunch. Lords and ladies looked on in terror at their bad manners.

"These people of King's Landing are far too stuck up," Obara grunted through a mouthful of turkey leg.

"You should have seen it when the Baratheon-Lannisters held the throne, you know," Nymeria smiled.

"When I, Nymeria Sand, overcame my ill bred sisters and rose to sit on the small council for all of Dorne."

"You're far too conceited," Tyene wrinkled her girlish nose and sipped her wine.

"Nym, who'd you spread your legs to to get the job?" Obara smiled. "Wink wink nudge nudge."

Nymeria laughed with Obara and turned to Tyene in concern, not only was the blonde not laughing but her face was deathly pale.

She stood up adruptly, almost knocking her two sisters over in shock, "Death's Nudge! Death's nudge was the poison I smelt on that old man!"

* * *

Arya had put a few dozen unpoisoned pins into the dress pattern before she pulled a few poison pins out of her pocket. She wanted the poison to be very hard to trace and the more pins, the more effort it would take to trace therefore the less likely they would actually trace it to the North.

She nearly had the pin into the queen's lower back, near her spine, when the door burst open.  
It was the three obnoxious girls from the castle's grand doors, the two guards and the Queen's hand.

"Stop assassin!" The pretty one Nym yelled.

"What is the meaning of this?" Queen Daenerys asked.

"His pins are poisoned, soaked in Death's Nudge," Tyene the poison master pleaded with the queen.

Daenerys backed towards her guards, fierce and dangerous grimace on her face so terrifying Arya almost remembered what fear was.

"Dammit," Arya huffed, disappointed. She had failed at her mission. What would her old masters say?  
She looked to the floorboard, she couldn't go that way, they would see her true face once she lost the tailor's. The window was her only option.

The three gold cloaks and the white cloaked Queen's guard pointed their weapons at her.

Arya smiled and slowly backed toward the window, "Well I guess you outsmarted me today. I guess poison wasn't the way to do things."

An archer ran through the door and loosed an arrow at her. Arya ducked, grabbed the window sill and swung herself out of the window and down the side of the roof. She clawed her way higher up, hoping to get to the opposite side of the massive red keep before the Queen's troops could march all the way around.

Arya was almost to the top when a roar disturbed her.

_ Bloody hell, I forgot the green dragon,_ Arya froze, a cold chill ran down her back.

The creature was even more massive close up, it's scales emerald and completely ethereal.

_ No time to admire the scenery Arya, time to get back home _

The dragon let loose a stream of green fire so hot she could feel the Tailor's shapeshift begin to melt from her. She grabbed a loose shingle, cramped her butt on it and slid down the roof, it was the fastest way to go.

The dragon flew around her, eager to fry her but she knew it didn't want to destroy the castle.

She hit the pikes were they used to stick heads and was knocked over them, she quickly flipped with one hand over and into a nearby alley. She could hear the troops gather as she ran into the sewers that led to the Blackwater and the boat that would ferry her home.

She just hopped she could somehow change faces before someone found her.

Daenerys marched through her castle, back in her Dothraki riding clothes. She barged through the grand doors of the Red Keep and down the massive steps up to a troop of Unsullied.

"Have you found the man who tried to kill me?!" Dany cursed. Not angry at her men but at herself for almost falling into the clutches of the tailor.

"There's no sign of him my Queen but the second we do I'll hand you my sword and let you take the vile man's yourself." Grey Worm nodded, dead serious. Unsullied didn't make jokes.

It appeased Dany somewhat but made her wary of her new surroundings. She had thought with four dragons, three full grown and surrounding the castle and a baby she kept with her at all times she'd be safe.

She thought wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: I don't own anything! I use characters that haven't been introduced in the tv show yet, a lot of them are book characters. If you get confused the ASOIAF Wiki can help :]_**

**_Also this is nearly TEN YEARS after where the books are currently. If characters seem different, it's because they've grown up. Any major differences in personality while be explained in the story as it progresses. _**

* * *

Dany was already awake when her hand maidens knocked on her door to wake her, she'd been awake all night. Sleep was just impossible.

Of course she had her close calls with death before, but never with a death so subtle, a death that had breached her shields and gotten so close to killing her.

She had rewarded the sand snakes handsomely for saving her, enough wine and sweets to last a normal person a year, them a week. It not only let them no she appreciated them, so they'd remain loyal to her. But it was an incentive to the rest of her men, the queen rewards those deserve it. She didn't just expect blind loyalty or complete fear because of her dragons. She wanted them to love her.

When her dragons had grown to at least bigger than a small house, she had honestly thought her troubles were over. Who would dare get close to her? Who would dare challenge her?

She had naively thought dragons meant safety. With her dragons stuck outside of her castle, she was defenseless and even sleeping with Rhaego, Drogon and Viserion's baby, she was still defenseless. He was still only the size of a house cat.

What was she going to do?

* * *

Arya crawled through the sewers heaving, she was so out of breath. Just like when her father was executed and she was in hiding, the sewers were full of people, just as shaggy and dirty as her. She felt invisible, just another slob in the crowd, it had been an excellent idea to dirty up and rip the tailor's clothes and rub dirt on her skin.

The last ten years she had told herself she'd never eat another rat again but she did, it had taken awhile to get the stringy creature down through her gagging but her stomach didn't ache anymore. She could think of things besides food, like escape an survival.

She finally made it to where the sewers started to flow into the ocean, a very empty place due to the disgusting smell of the harbor. She waited until she had light coming in from the storm drain and shed the tailor's face and body. She shrunk back to her normal height, almost a foot shorter than before, she sighed in relief, shifting so tall made her bones stretch so thin they hurt. It was his face next, unlike where the rest of her body just shift, she had to shed the skin of his face. A disgusting but useful process. It took awhile but when her face was her own again, she tossed the tailor's face into the sea.

Arya decided to strip off her clothes and try to tie and fashion them into something relatively feminine enough so she could go unnoticed passing through the city.

"Arry?"

Panic rushed through her at the deep voice. She hadn't been called Arry since travelling with Yoren, Gendry and Hot Pie. It took her a second to recognize the voice and another second to remember that she was naked in front of him.

"Gendry?!" Arya fumbled to grab the crumpled mass of clothing on the ground, she hadn't been this clumsy since she was a child.

"Did I just see you go from man to woman?" There was a dumbfounded look on the tall, muscled blacksmiths face. "What the hell is going on?"

* * *

Jon strided into the clearing to watch his men spar, Ghost was at his hip, his fur was as milky as the snow beneath him, he blended so well it made his bright red eyes nearly glow in contrast.

Some of Stannis' men had taken the black, dreading having to find their way back south by themselves, another third tried to get home but had failed and stayed, the last third were never seen again. He hoped they had made it but seriously doubted it, there were stil others and monsters lurking in the frozen wasteland after all.

Davos was among the men who stayed, he seemed to harbor no ill will over Stannis' execution. He stood solemnly at Jon's side next to Ghost.

"It's nice to have actual soldiers in the Night's Watch again, last knight who took the black of his own free will was Jeor Mormont so long ago." Sam was at his other's side, as always he fiddled with his Meister's chain.

"We almost don't need to go to the capital and empty the dungeons." Davos seemed to be trying to take a laedership role or at least be Jon's right hand man just like he was for Stannis'. Jon scoffed in his head, look how well that had turned out for Stannis!

Sure Jon appreciated another wise, educated, person on his side but trusting the man was another matter.

"Can't, _personal invitation_ from the queen. She wants the Commander himself to collect," Sam glanced at Davos.

"But why?" Jon mused, not too thrilled about making his first trip South. Ice ran through his veins, he belonged in the North. But the Dragon Queen had requested it and he had to appear to be a loyal subject lest she ever know about his involvement in the botched assassination attempt.

"I don't think it's wise to leave, leaving Sansa here with all these sex-starved men, but I must. These are teneous times, she looking for someone to blaim for that blasted assassination attempt. We must walk on egg shells around her or she might burn us like that witch or Stannis."

"I'd protect the Lady Sansa with my life," Davos was quick to reassure, Jon appreaciated the help but he was kind of becoming a kiss-ass.

"But you must admit, it was bloody brilliant. How did someone make it that close to her without arousing suspicion? Magic my friends! We need someone like that to train our men," Sam's eyes fixed on Jon's.

Jon knew that'd feed Arya's overfed ego even more, she' need it after failing in her mission. He hoped she wasn't beating herself up over it, she was a leged now.  
"Magic," Davos laughed.

"Yes magic, these are strange times we live in dragons, wargs, assassins and sorceresses. Who knows what else lurks in the shadows?"

"What's a warg?" Davos' brows furrowed.

"Someone who can become an animal, usually just by trading minds with a real animal. They say the ancestors of the Starks, thousands of years ago."

"I doubt those exist," Davos sneered. "What I really want to know is who is behind the assassination attempt."

"From my letters from the Citadel, they say the man was inhuman in the way he scaled that spiked roof the Red Keep has. If he was human he would've killed by exertion if not from falling from the Red Keep."

Jon seriosuly hoped Sam had heard wrong, "I bet it's a Lannister or Tyrell trick, egos bruised from bending the knee to the Targaryen woman."

Davos nodded, "You Starks, always so quick to blaim the Lannisters, it does sound plausible though. They seem to have been the only one's besides Stannis to have a grudge against her."

Sam shook his head, "I doubt any Tyrell or Lannister is capable of such stealth and ingenuity."

"But you're forgetting, they're still exceedingly rich, hire some witch from the East," Jon was quick to rebuttle.

"She came _from_ the East, if someone from the East wanted to kill her, they'd have already tried." Sam just wanted to argue today, Jon could see his point. Everything he said was entirely plausible.

"Maybe they did and failed and wanted to try again? Or they were paid by the Tyrells or Lannisters too."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say it was the Starks them being _magic animal warg_s," Davos laughed but stopped when Ghost fixed his red eyes on him. "But I know the tragedies you're family suffered at the hands of the two, you'd never attack their usurper, the one who shamed them and put them in their place."

"Yeah," Jon smiled, playing along. "Never."

* * *

Dany's council had thought her brilliant for asking the Commander of the Night's Watch to come in person to collect his criminals. They, just like her, questioned their loyalty. She still didn't quite understand the Watch, besides the fact that they kept the monster's from the Ice Wall from attacking the Seven Kingdoms. So she decided to read up on them.

At first, she had thought to go to Bran Stark himself to get information but she knew he was in almost constant contact with his elder brother and thought twice of it. So she meandered around the Red Keep's insanely large library, it took her hours to find what she was looking for. She then settled in her private quarters in a fluffy window seat facing the sea.

_A History of the Night's Watch_ by Samwell Tarly. It looked promising... and incredibly thick. But it included a brifd overview in the beginning of just what the Night Watch was and what positions you could hold, ranger and steward. She them skipped to the last couple pages. It's last entry was three years old. She flipped to Jorah's fathers command.

_Jeor Mormont 997th Commander_  
_Mormont took the black to abdicate his lordship to his son Jorah after his wife had died. Considered one of the best commanders of all time, he helped the Night's Watch become mighty again. He changed from predictable patrols that were ineffective against the Wildlings and Others to a more random and surprising patrol that hindered many Wildling attacks and raids on the Seven Kingdoms. He was killed at Crastor's Keep by his own men. The men who had turned on him were eventually killed by a wite named Coldhands_

She skipped ahead to Jon Snow, what kind of man was this? What kind of crime did he commit to be stuck at the Wall?

_Jon Snow 998th Commander_  
_Jon Snow became a Steward to Mormont after willingly taking the Black. He was promoted to Ranger after saving Mormont's life from an undead other. Mormont promoted him and gave him the Mormont family sword, Longclaw._

_After going on a scouting party and getting cornered with the great Qhorin Halfhand, Halfhand had Snow kill him and go undercover to gain the Wildlings trusts ..._

Dany scanned the ten pages of Jon Snow's accomplishments, he was easily had one of the most eventful commands. His adventures were just as interesting of hers. She made a mental note to remember that one of the last entries in his leadership entailed him being stabbed by his own men when he had thought to ride south to war. His wounds had healed and his men had put him into place, after that he had kept the Watch at the wall.

She closed the book and turned toward the harbor, the sun was setting and the sea was ribboned with pinks and oranges.

She sighed. Her putting the Sand Snakes in charge of the gold cloaks and having them clean up the city had her dungeons full, they couldn't wait a month or more for him to travel down here by himself. Tomorrow she was supposed to ride Drogon up to collect the man. And collect she would.

* * *

Sansa watched Jon pack his bags with tears in her eyes. Jon tried not to look at her.

"Sansa, do you want to go with me?" Jon asked gently, shoving thick socks into his bags.

"Never, I'll never go south again." She snapped, she ran a shaking hand through her bright hair. "Sorry, I'm just terrified, I worry for Arya day and night and now I'll have to pray for you even more than usual."

"More than usual?" He smiled, pulling his little sister into a hug. She needed the comfort, being so stressed.

"Yes, for your soul," She sighed. "You shouldn't pack so many thick socks, it's not hot down there but it's not cold enough for those either."

"Thanks," Jon did what he was told and then flung his pack over his shoulder, "While I'm gone you and Sam are in charge, Davos is also going to look after you but don't trust him and stick close to Hodor."

He looked down at Ghost, "Ghost is going to stay with you 24/7, don't let him leave your side or you leave his."

She nodded and bent down to pet Ghost.

They walked out into the clearing, perfect timing, the dragon queen was just landing. She was by herself except for one Dothraki, the same one that had beheaded Stannis.

He walked up to them, "Queen Daenerys."

"Commander Snow," She nodded, she was wearing Dothraki rags again. "Are you ready?"

Jon eyed the gigantic dragon, "I suppose so."

"Well then let's go," She gestured to the dragon, he would go ahead of her. She was smart, she didn't trust just anybody. Jon nodded in approval.

"I have a favor to ask first," Jon turned to his men and two of them carried a sleeping Summer over. "Can I bring my younger brother Bran's direwolf? We've drugged him and he won't wake until after we are there."

"Is it tame?" She asked.

"About as much as your dragons."

Queen Daenerys laughed and Jon couldn't help but think it was a very pleasant sound.

"I suppose so," She mocked in a man's voice. She was making fun of him! Thankfully it was out of earshot of his men.

They mounted the dragon, Jon clung tightly to Summer. The black dragon lifted of the ground, catching the wind. Ghost and Shaggydog began to howl for Summer, they'd miss Summer just as much as Sansa would miss him.

He hoped they both returned safely.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Thanks for reading! Hopefully you like this chapter! While you wait for the next one, I've got a couple of Lord of the Rings stories, an Arya-centric Game of Thrones story and a few Avengers stories.**_

* * *

They arrived in King's Landing at last. The queen's massive black dragon, Drogon, she called him, landed with a large thud. A dirt cloud puffed around them and Jon squinted his eyes, not used to dry soil.

He realized how limited he was, he was the only one of his siblings who hadn't left the North or travelled extensively.

It appeared they were outside the Red Keep, he knew it immediately for it was exactly as it's name implied. Queen Daenerys and Rhaqaro had already dismounted the great scaley beast but Jon was too enraptured with his new surroundings. And not in a good way.

He felt as if he was on a foreign planet, he was used to gray skies and white grounds, with beautiful green pine trees and red woods. He was used to open space and large landscapes.

He'd be finding none of that South, he realized. The city was crowded and if not a bit smelly. Thousands of dirty houses and manors were clumped together in a such a tiny spot of land by the sea. The harbor appeared to be rotten, if the smell was anything to go by.

He squeezed Summer, hoping he'd wake. He felt like an outsider and maybe, he rationalized, if the great direwolf awoke he wouldn't feel so alone. He already missed his Ghost, but he knew the albino direwolf would hate the South even more than he did. It was a blessing he didn't bring him.

"Commander Snow?" Queen Daenerys snapped him from his thoughts. He turned to look down at her.

"Care to dismount sometime this winter, good ser?" She grinned.

"I'm no ser, just a humble Crow," Jon sighed and hopped down. Summer was in his arms and he barely felt the massive canines weight. He looked around at the busy city below once more, "A crow who is definitely away from its nest."

"Are you up to seeing the dungeons now?" The queen asked. "I thought it best to get it out of the way now and then you can visit with your brother for a few days before you set off."

He nodded. That was understandable, she wanted her dungeons cleaned out as soon as possible so her city would be safe. But he had hoped for more time with Bran, to make sure his brother was safe here._ And in his darkest dreams, he had hoped for more time with the dragon queen._

His eyes searched her face, her personality reminded him so strongly of his first love Ygritte but they looked so different. The woman had been a wilding in not personality alone but appearance as well. Harsh and hard as the winters they both struggled to survive in. The Queen was the fire and light her and her dragons bathed in, she looked almost fragile until you challenged her and learned her appearance was deceiving.

He must have been looking at her strangely for the Queen gave him an odd look, "Right this way Commander Snow."

They walked toward the castle, Jon was amazed how large it was. The castle of Winterfell was large but the Red Keep had been made to house dragons. Her dark green dragon lounged on the roof and the white appeared to be approaching Drogon who had stayed behind.

The baby silver dragon, whom he believed was named Rhaego if he remembered correctly, flew over to land on The Dragon Lady's chest. She stroked her beloved baby and led them into the castle, Jon and Rhaqaro just a step behind.

Jon struggled to keep with the Queen's pace, he was much taller than her and his long legs kept wanting to lead the group but out of respect he kept slowing and followed the petite queen.

Sansa had told him that under Baratheon rule the castle had been sparsley decorated, a few seldom banners and fancy baubbles hanging here or there. But back under a Targaryen it was as the history books described it. Massive dragon skulls mounted on the rafters and large swaths of cloth in Targaryen colors decorated the innards of the Red keep.

Summer was starting to stir in his arms and he placed him down. The direwolf shook himself awak and padded next to them. He was skinnier than Ghost still, Ghost may have been the runt but he had grown much larger than his siblings. But Summer was still massive and muscular too. He'd put any hound in King's Landing to shame.

"Did you dream of home, Summer?" Jon whispered to the direwolf.

Summer peered at him with intelligent yellow eyes, understanding what he was saying and longing for the North too.

"We're here for Bran," Jon comforted the direwolf's homesickness. That appeared to appease the wolf, Summer would do anything for Bran. He had killed a man for Bran, living south for a few years would be easy for the creature.

"Rhaqaro you may go, check on the rest of the Khalasar and make sure they aren't causing trouble," The Queen directed her bloodrider. The Dothraki nodded and walked off, not worried for his queen in the slightest.

"Are we to wait for another guard before we proceed, your highness?" Jon asked, it was strange for a queen to walk around unattended. Especially after the recent assassination attempt. He told her so.

"I won't live my life in fear," She stoked Rhaego's silver scaled. "And I believe you to be an honest man, one who's loyal to the oaths he's taken. Even your celibacy one."

Jon quirked an eyebrow, "Your highness, I was speaking of the prisoners in the dungeons."

Quen Daenerys shook her head, "They're nothing more than ants in my eyes, I barely notice them. We'll be fine."

So it's test then, Jon realized. She thought him and his people were behing her assassination attempt and that he'd attempt to kill her in the dungeons if she was right. Sure she was correct on the first part but he had no reason to kill her for the time being. Attacking and enslaving the North like Bran had said, hadn't happened._ Yet_, being the operative word. If the Dragon Queen played her hand fairly so would he.

Her violet gaze was steel and he met it with obsidian fire of his own.

The Commander of the Night's Watch was a strange man. He spoke to his brother's pet direwolf. And even though he used the proper terms to address her like your highness or your majesty it wasn't sincere.

She had seen his wild gaze sweeping King's Landing, like a wolf thrown in a cage with a bunch of puppies. He was out of his element.

She'd exploit that.

"The dungeons are this way," She wanted to get to the dungeons already so she could go back up to her quarters and take a steaming bath, the wind had been frigid flying back. She needed warmth back in her skin again.

She led him down a winding stone staircase, he grabbed a large torch to light their way and after about fifteen minutes of climbing down the neverending stairs they made it to the dungeons.

The dungeons of the far east had been far more cruel, with spikes protruding from the walls waiting to gouge prisoners or rancid meat left nearby to taunt the prisoners. Her dungeons were fairly clean just a bit over crowded.

"These seem to be rather humane dungeons," Commander Snow commented as if reading her thoughts. His onyx eyes swept the dark room and the thousand beady little eyes that squinted back at them.

"I agree," She nodded.

"My sister Sansa stayed in the Eyrie for awhile, hiding from the Lannisters," He started, his fingers found the top of Summer's head and he pet his soft fur. "They have these dungeons called the Sky Cells, more like more shelves on the side of a flat moutain cliff, thousands of feet above the ground, almost too high up to still breathe, they only have three walls, the fourth apparently is open to the cold, oxygenless sky. They leave prisoners there for years and most end up jumping from the moutain to their death."

"I've heard of them," She nodded. "They're imfamous amongst the people of the East. If the east wasn't mountainless and flat I'm sure hundreds of replicas would've been made. What do you do as punishment at the Night's Watch."

"Beheading." He used the torch to light a few lamps before putting it out in a small pool of water that had leaked from the ceiling onto the cold stone floor.

"That's one way to solve a problem."

He shrugged at the Queen, "If a man gives up his second chance, he deserves nothing more."

"I completely agree," She led him over to a small office area and procured the prisoner manifest. It was a foot long piece of parchment that carried the names of all the prisoners, their crimes and their cell number, if they were to be executed there names were circled in red ink. "How long do you think it will take you to go over this and choose who you want to take?"

He glanced at the paper over her shoulder, his eyes struggling to avoid her cleavage, "Perhaps a day or two. I also hoped to visit my brother, if her highness doesn't mind."

She turned to look at him, "You know the way you keep saying her highness isn't exactly polite, it sounds more patronizing than anything and-"

"Shh," He shoved the queen against a stone wall and the breath was nearly knocked from her. His tall, lithe body was pressed up against hers. For being a man of winter, he sure was warm.

"How dare you! I will-" He placed a rough skinned hand over her mouth. Outraged, she bit him but he ignored it. His other hand went to his sword, Longclaw. He leaned down to whisper in her ear and his hot breath tickled her neck.

"The fourth cell down on the left his open, I think you've had a prison break," His warm breath was giving her shivers, a reaction she hadn't had to anyone since Drogo had died. She tried to ignore it, it was just a side effect of not having sex for so long. "If your prisoner manifest is correct, that cell happened to house a great number of rapists and murderers."

She grumbled in frustration more to herself than Jon Snow, "I still don't understand Jorah's logic of putting them all together."

"Perhaps to have them finish each other off," He shrugged again and jolted back. He must've realized how close his body was against hers. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, it was the most emotion she'd seen from him.

She shook her head, telling him she'd disregard it, "Where do you think they are?"

A flurry of green and bronze fire cascading down the hallways answered her question.

"Rhaegal!" The Queen ran into emerald flames and Jon nudged Summer back from the spitting cinders. He covered his face and ran off after the queen and was immediately burnt. He could feel his clothes melting and his skin blistering.

The fire blast had stopped and Jon sighed and dropped to his knees, in relief.

At the end of the hall was a small window, peaking out from the hill, giving the dungeon a tiny view of King's Landing. The green dragon, Rhaegal's head, was on the other side of it. On their side, four black charred corpses were melted to the bars on the window, one emaciated carcass was halfway through the bars, reaching for the unsuspecting people of King's Landing.

He stared for a long time, the last burnt body he'd seen was Melisandre's and there hadn't even been a body. Drogon had quickly burned her to ash, killing her swift and leaving no trace of her. Rhaegal had slow roasted these men. Jon almost felt badly, but he reminded himself they had been rapists and murderers. Rhaegal had done a good thing.

Queen Daenerys' back was to him, facing Rhaegal, her petite frame filled out her clothing quite nicely.  
She stepped past the charred prisoners, through the bars and smoothed a creamy, unscathed hand on the dragon's massive head. The dragon closed it's eyes and leaned into her touch, just like Jon was starting to wish he could.

She finally turned back to him, her eyes went wide and she ran over, "You ran through the fire?"

He nodded.

"You imbecile, what made you think you'd be alright?" She berrated him.

"You can do it," He tried to explain but it just sounded stupid. He had just wanted to follow her and make sure she was alright. He was too much of a soldier, always looking to protect those around him. But she just wasn't another person around him, he was starting to grow exceedingly attracted to her, what he was feeling was dangerous. It had to stop.

"I'm a dragon." She explained.

There was no way she meant in a literal sense, she must mean like how he called himself a crow. Metaphor, simply metaphor and nothing more.

He nodded, his wounds were starting to hurt terribly.

She put her hands on his arms and he shrank back in pain, he'd be blistered.

"We need to get you to the citadel," She sighed, rolling her eyes. He was an idiot but still she was concerned for him. She helped him to her feet and helped him walk up the thousand-step staircase, ignoring the beady eyes of the emaciated prisoners crowded and crouched in their dank cells.

"I get to see Bran," The injured commander gave a slight smile. Dany looked back to make sure Bran Stark's direwolf was following them. Quiet as a shadow, he had been following them the whole time, it's eerie yellow eyes on the arm she had wrapped around the Commander.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Thanks for reading**_

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They were in Gendry's small house, next to his smith. Arya was wrapped up in some other woman's clothing, the dress too large on her and smelled of thick perfume. She drank heavily from the large flaggon of ale in her hands. She gave Gendry a dirty look, maybe he dressed up in drag when he was home alone and this was his dress. She snickered into her drink.

They had gotten back just a few hours before and they had sitten in awkward silence the entire time.

"Take it easy on the spirits, Lady Stark." Gendry grumbled, poking at the pig he was cooking over his small fireplace with an old, iron spoon.

"I'll drink as much I want too," Arya growled.

"Fair enough I guess," Gendry dropped the spoon and turned to her, "Are we going to speak of what I saw you doing in the sewer or would it make milady angry again?"

Arya gave him her dirtiest look, "Cut it out with that milady shit! I'm still Ary, the little roughneck street boy you were friends with on the road."

"No you're not," Gendry sighed rubbing a hand over his face. "I can't believe you never trusted me enough to tell me you were a lady, royalty in the north!"

"To protect myself! The Lannisters weren't the only one's out to get me! People all around were trying to find me, use me to ransom or kill me to get back at my family."

"I could've protected you better, made sure no one harmed you but the things that happened to us before I realized you were a girl, things a woman should never have to see or experience, especially as a child. A helpless little girl should never have had to go through what you did, we went through!" He sighed. "Losing you, haunts me til this day."

"_V__alar morghulis, valar dohaeris, _Arya stood and crossed her arms. "You didn't lose me, I ran away."

"What does that mean?"

"To the assassins that serve the Many-faced God it means all men must die, all men must serve. It means women too. That's what I became after you decided to stay with those men on the road, after I escaped you lot. I became an assassin, able to take the face of anyone I want. I don't need protection, I never did. I'm self sufficient, I took care of myself I never needed you, so don't dare say I was helpless I never was."

He stood now and loomed over her, "Maybe I was the helpless one then? Maybe I needed a purpose besides_ just breathing_? I needed to feel important, needed and strong. Why did you have to be so independent and run away?"

She backed away from him, this conversation was getting too intense. It had been practically a decade and they were already arguing again. She looked up at him, "Who does this dress belong to?"

Gendry gave her a sad look, "My wife."

He heaved open his door and walked out, slamming it shut behind him.

Arya stared in surprise. Finishing her drink, she decided to pour herself another.

* * *

Jon woke in a large infirmary, shaken awake. His dark eyes darted around the crowded hospital room. Soft hands pushed him back down. Jon's eyes focused, it was his little brother Bran.

"Bran," Jon wheezed.

"Yes," Bran smiled, petting Summer next to him. His meister's chain hung heavy around his neck.

"Is this the citadel?" Jon looked around curiously.

"No, the citadel has it's own town southwest of here, close to Dorne, I studied there for a short time, now I'm studying at the Alchemist's Guild, we're in their hall," Bran smiled. Jon looked around, the walls and ceiling were made of a black marble.

"Are you liking it? Are you happy?" Jon asked, desparate to make sure his little brother was alright.

"Yes," Bran still wore his warm smile. "It's not home but for the first time in my life I feel like I'm doing the right thing."

"Will you be done studying by the time I have to leave, can you return north and be Sam's apprentice?" Jon begged.

Bran shook his head, his hands gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, "I can't do that, I'm not ready. You chose your path, I'll choose mine."

"I can honor that," Jon sighed. "But I worry for Sansa's mental health, she's so desparately worried about you and now Arya."

Bran's eyes widened, he leaned closer to his brother and his eyes darted around the infirmary in suspicion, "Are you telling me? You?"

"Yes," Jon whispered. "And she's yet to return home."

Bran let out a strangled breath through his gritted teeth, "Well, we have to trust her. She survived being a small child and being on her own, we have to believe she'll be just as fine as an adult."

Jon nodded, "I know, it's you I worry about more. A lone wolf in a nest of serpents."

Bran's eyes lit up with amusement, "I never took you for a poet."

"You know what I mean," Jon sighed. "Do they treat you alright?"

"I don't have much contact with them, Queen Daenerys lets all the maesters and us apprentices use the castle library, their library is almost as extensive as the one at the citadel. I've been staying here for the most part though, I want my specialty to be Alchemy, now that there's living dragons in the world again and there is magic again, the kingdom is desparate for Alchemists."

"I'm glad you're doing something you love," Jon nodded. "How long have I been out for?"

"Two weeks, it would've been longer if the Alchemists hadn't used magic with their medicine. You had extensive third degree burns, almost down to the bone. We thought you'd be disfigured for the rest of your life."

Jon felt his face and then looks at his arms. He pulled off the itchy wool blanket wrapped around him and looked at his naked torso. His skin looked fine, a bit pink but otherwise fine.

"They call Rhaegal the Green, the slow roaster, his fire burns to cause pain and disfigure," Bran looked troubled.

That made Jon chuckle, his chuckle soon grew into a loud belly laugh. Alchemists and patients in the infirmary looked around at them, irritated.

"What may I ask are you laughing at?" Bran's eyebrow quirked.

"Another Stark was caused harm in the south, well Snow, but you know what I mean, Stark blood." Jon tried to pull himself together. It was a dark humor, Bran was probably horrified. But he thought it was hilarious.

Bran started to laugh too, "What a life we've led! Dad killed, mom killed, eldest brother killed, me crippled, you burnt to a crisp, Sansa married against her wil and well Arya's just Arya."

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	7. Chapter 7

Sansa put down the letter from Bran with a sigh, putting her head in her hands dry sobs racked her small frame. Ghost whined at her side, unsure how to comfort her.

Jon was alive, thank the seven gods, but he had been an inch from death. The blasted South had almost taked another Stark life.

She heard a creak at her old wooden door. She didn't bother to acknowledge it, Castle Black was ancient and it moaned and groaned as if it were an old man. It was when she heard footsteps that she tried to pull herself together.

"R-Rickon, I'll play cards with you in a little bit, just give me a minute."

No response.

Ghost started to snarl and Sansa turned to look at who had walked into her bed chamber.

"Gambling, Little Bird? Is that how you Northerners pass the winters up here?"

Sansa's heart nearly stopped beating, Bran's letter laid forgotten on her desk.

* * *

Gendry hadn't come back the night before, so Arya made herself at home. A voice in the back of her head screamed for her to leave, steal supplies and head back North. But she couldn't do that.

Instead, she had taken off Gendry's wife's dress and changed into some of Gendry's softest clothing and then slept in his bed. Well laid in his bed, sleep elluded her.

She wasn't sure what to make of Gendry being married. She knew she had to start heading home, her family was probably worried sick and probably thought she was dragon shit about now but she honestly couldn't.

As always, her curiousity was getting the best of her judgement. Instead she closed her eyes and enjoyed his house. His blankets and sheets smelled like him, smoky.

At some point, the warmth and smell of Gendry's bed and the light cracking of the fire place had lulled her into a near-sleep like state. She was so relaxed, she almost felt like she was at home.

The blankets were ripped off of her and she curled up into a little ball.

"What are you doing?! You're in ym bed and in my clothes, Lady Stark I gave you a dress to wear!" Gendry was back and with dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin. He looked horrified.

Arya's lack of manners struck again. Arya didn't particularly see the problem.

"You left and I thought I'd make myself at home," She shrugged, a scowl skewing her face, he wasn't the only one grumpy from a sleepless night.

"And my clothes?" Gendry whispered, a challenge.

"They're more comfortable and to be frank, it's odd to be wearing the lady of the house's clothing, where praytell is Lady Blacksmith?"

"She died, two years ago, giving birth to out first child, he didn't make it," Gendry's blue eyes looked down to meet Arya's, there was sorrow in their depths.

Arya looked down and sighed, "I'm really sorry."

"It's alright, I've moved on," Gendry looked away, toward the far wall and ran a hand through his hair.

"Obviously not if you've kept her clothing," Blunt as ever, Arya scolded herself.

"We were only married for four months, I was still an apprentice blacksmith at the time, my master had me married to her, to get her dowry to start my own smith. I did eventually grow to care for her but I won't lie and say her and I had a great love story, nothing song worthy."

"The song's are bullshit anyways," Arya smiled. "It still must her, I honestly am sorry I was blunt and rude before."

"I know you can't help it," Gendry grinned. Arya quirked an eyebrow, was that him accepting her apology or insulting her? She had no idea. "Want breakfast? I bought some bacon and chicken eggs while I was out."

Arya smirked, "I guess that'll do."

"Oh princess, my dearest apologies my fare isn't up to parr," Gendry grinned.

They may had been joking but there was still some uncomfortable edge in Gendry, she could see it in his posture, the emotion in his face. Arya would get to the bottom of it.

* * *

"W-what are you doing here? How did you get in?" Sansa whispered, nervous. Seeing her was bringing to light memories of King's Landing she had long repressed. Joffrey's abuse, the countless times he had protected her from Joffrey's wrath, the battle of the Blackwater when he had appeared in her quarters as the Alchemist's Guild ignited King's Landing in green firey hell.

"I walked in waving a Stark banner and they let me waltz on in," He smirked with the good side of his face, the handsome side, it was stark contrast to the burnt half. "As for why, well Little Bird I've quite missed your songs."

Sansa composed herself, she wasn't the useless little girl she'd once been. She was an adult now and the defacto leader of the Starks and the Watch, "I don't sing songs anymore."

"A pity," He grinned. "I guess we've both changed over the years, I no longer serve the Lannisters and you Bird, have changed greatly, mostly appearance wise."

His eyes took their time to graze over her body, languidly drifting from her toes to her eyes, drinking in every detail of her. Sansa attempted not to shudder.

"Stop calling me a bird," She grimaced. "I'm a wolf, I-"

"Lady Sansa!" Sam heaved open her old stone doors, out of breath and huffing. He stopped when he saw the Hound. "Th-The h-hound, I've heard stories about you."

"Call me Sandor," The hound turned his mismatched gaze on the meister.

The hairs rose on the back of Sansa's neck, suddenly very worried for Sam's life. Jon and Arya weren't here to protect them. Ghost was poised on his haunches, ready to strike.

"Is your leader here, tubby?"

Sam's mouth fell open, flabbergasted at the insult, "Uh Lady Sansa and I govern in his stead."

"Well then," He growled, turning back to Sansa. He dropped down on one knee, his hounds head helmet tucked under his arm. "I'd like to pledge myself to the Night's Watch."

Sansa froze, was it foolish to think he was still fixated on her and had travelled all the way to the Wall for her? She decided it was very foolish, "I accept your pledge."

_Jon dreamt through Ghost's eyes, running through a forest. _Home.

_Stark white snow, silver sky._

From the aurora in the sky he could tell he was very North, definately beyond the Wall.

First it started to rain, Jon kept running, his powerful hind legs propelling him through the forest.

Then it began to snow.

Jon's thick fur kept him insulated and warm, the snow nothing more than a passing thought. He kept running darting between ancient, sky-scraping redwoods and over fallen tree trunks.

A bright light repulsed him and he was thrown back. Jon shook his lupine head, this was wrong. It struck him that he had given Ghost orders to stay by Sansa's side until he returned. Ghost would never disobey and abandon Sansa.

Jon rose onto his four legs, he had been thrown out of a circle of trees. A circle where no snow fell and barren brown soil stood out in unsettling contrast. Trees with faces carved into them.

He had almost trespassed into sanctified ground, an unholy shame upon his Northern ancestors. Jon peered into the ancient shrine and look upon the faces of the old gods. They all had dragon heads.

"Look at you, a warg like my children." Catelyn Stark snickered, materializing in a gust of wind.

"Lady Stark," Human speech was strange coming from a wolf's mouth, it came out as a combination of his voice and a wolf's bark.

Why would she appear to him? The woman who had always hated him for the sins of his father. His only mistake had been being born.

"I know what you're thinking and I'd like to apologize for the way I treated you," There was something behind her eyes, some secret she was keeping. "What Eddard claimed of your origin, the things I blamed on you, they were false."

"False? He's not my father? He didn't lay with another woman that year he was away?

She didn't answer his questions, brushing them off as if she hadn't heard them, "I still hate you though, the things you've achieved, the greatness you're destined for. Why does a bastard deserve such grandeur when my own trueborn sons lie in a grave or crippled."

Jon growled, "Sounds like you're insinuating I don't care for my brothers! I always have, I almost left the Watch to help Robb! And Bran, I've done everything for him! And what of Rickon, are you forgetting your youngest? He's going to be King of the North now."

Catelyn Stark image began to flicker, her usual neat dress flickered on her, it started to look torn and bloody. Her face too, pale and clear one second and bloody and blue the next.

Jon backed away a little.

"How dare you call them your brothers, Snow!" She hissed, there was a large wound on her neck, a bloody line from ear to ear, it began to dribble blood. She tried to lunge for him but she couldn't leave the circle of trees, pulled back into the shrine.

She cursed and pointed at the trees with dragon heads, "And what do you make of this oh wise one? The peaceful faces of the gods you once worshipped replaced by the visage of the dragon."

Jon had been wondering that himself. Did it have something to do with Queen Daenerys.

Catelyn Stark cursed again, answering his thoughts, "Of course it does! Look! If your continue this obsession on the Dragon Queen it will be the end of Northern ways."

"I will!" Jon yelled back, terrified, it was all a dream he knew but a terrifying one. Even his own subconscious didn't want him to entertain thoughts of the Dragon Queen.

"The man you called father was a more honorable man than I gave him credit for, a man who always kept his oaths. If you honor his memory at all you'll keep your oaths. You chose to be a lonesome crow and a lonesome crow you must be 'til the end of your days. You chose to die on the ice wall, not in the arms of a dragoness. Do not do what your heart tells you too."

With that Catelyn Stark flickered out of existence, blood from her neck streaming onto her dark green dress.

Jon shook awake, freezing cold. He looked down at his bare torso, his hands and feet were nearly blue and his body cold and wet.

An alchemist walked into the hospice area, Jon flagged him down.

"Did you people drug me with milk of the poppy?" He asked, hoping to explain the vivid dream.

The alchemist shook his balding head, "No you're fine, we haven't need to dose you with it for at least a week, we've been keeping you to make sure you didn't become gangrenous or somehow infected. You're free to return to the Red Keep, Commander Snow."

Jon shook the man's hand, a little off key from his dream, "Thank you."

Jon turned to get dressed and warm himself in the Southron sun.

Daenerys sat on her throne, her golden crown heavy on her head. Jorah had had it designed to look like her dragon's horns and it made her look fearsome. She had taken a liking to the gaudy bauble immediately.

Today, officials from the East were visiting to discuss relations with the Seven Kingdoms.

She wore her grandest attire for the occasion, things that would make the officials think the Seven Kingdoms rich. She wore a red silken gown, with black jewels and embroidery throughout it. Her waist length silver hair hung to her hips in long straight, sheets. Unwilling to put her hair up, she hoped it conveyed she was an untameable queen.

The officials, about a dozen or so men of varying ages, body types and skin colors knelt before her. A few of them were even shrouded in cloaks.

"Please rise, it is uncomfortable seeing people near before me, as if I'm better than them. We are all all people and I hope that we can form a long standing alliance and peace between our lands." Queen Daenerys called out.

"Well of course it makes you uncomfortable, false queen, sitting upon your stolen throne you Dothraki whore," One of the cloaked men called out.

Daenerys stood grimaced, her Dothrakis had nearly lept on the man but she kept them at bay, "Such fierce, scathing words must come easily when one is cowardly enough to keep their face covered. If you dare insult me, I challenge you to take off your hood and look me in the eyes and do it."

The man stepped forward, only a grin visible on his pale face. He pulled off his hood.

Silver hair and lavender eyes.

"I am Aegon the 7th! Son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, the rightful heir to the Iron throne. I call every bannermen of the Targaryen's and Martell's to my side to take my rightful throne."

A dead silence fell through the room.

Jorah who sat calmly at Daenerys side finally decided to speak, "And what proof do you have of this? Besides being fair-haired and lavender eyed? You can bleach your hair and there are magics that can be used to mask eye color."

'Aegon' unsheathed his sword, valerian steal gleamed with the sun from the stained glass windows. It's hilt was black. "This is Blackfyre, the long lost ancestral sword to house Targaryen, it is said in the hands of a Targaryen it can slice through anything."

He turned to a statue in the room and with an exaggerated sweep of Blackfyre he sliced through the statue like butter.

Jorah spoke again, "A talented swordsman can come from any family line, a royal prince or a lowly bastard. This still proves nothing."

Daenerys chose to speak out, "I have one test for you. A real one. A Targaryen can be burnt by dragon fire and remain unharmed. If you truly are the long lost son of my eldest brother than you will have no problem surving Drogon's black flames. You showed me your Blackfyre, I'll happily show you my own black fire."

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_**A/N: CLIFFHANGER! MUWAHAHA, how did you like the chapter? Please let me know in a review! They really make my day and let me know if you write stories too, I'm looking for some good GoT stories!**_


	8. Chapter 8

Jon sat in the Queen's sitting room, waiting for her to be done with her meeting. In his hands, he held the list of men that had chosen to take the black. Rapists, murderers, thieves….. the scum of the earth that the laws of the land gave a choice.

After his chilling his dream, he had asked the guards of the castle to send him to the Queen's Hand, Jorah Mormont but he had been told that the man would be unavailable to meet.

He had even offered to come back the next day but the guards had _insisted_ that he must meet with the queen herself. The three pushy women had all but dragged him into the Queen's sitting room.

He sat for what seemed like ages, he looked around observing the chamber. Large bookcases filled with books in languages he didn't understand. Complicated maps on her desk written in some sort of mathematical script.

He was starting to feel stupid.

Two things stuck out to him, two paintings one on the wall to his left and the other to his right. One held a younger Queen Daenerys and an older boy who looked related to her, her brother perhaps? He was trying to remember the tale from his child, if there had been another brother besides Rhaegar.

The other held a tall Dothraki man and the Queen. It looked like a wedding portrait, the Queen wore a nearly transparent silvery gown and the man had a giant, possessive hand low on her hip. She looked terrified.

Looking so terrified she was almost unrecognizable.

The slamming of the chamber thick wooden doors jarred Jon from his thoughts. The queen stormed in, enraged she tore books off the wall and screeched. Torn paper floated around the room.

"Queen Daenerys?" He asked, shocked at her behavior.

She froze and looked up, wide-eyed and embarrassed, she cursed, "Dammit, it would be you to see me like this wouldn't it?"

"What?" He asked, surely not hearing her right. Wanting to know what she meant. _Remember the dream, remember the dream._

A strangled breath escape her lips as she attempted to compose herself, "Nothing, I'm sorry you had to see that. What you must think of me now."

He stood, remembering his manners, for a man does not sit until a lady does. Sansa would be so proud.

She walked around him, toward her chair on the other side of her desk and he finally noticed what she was wearing. A gaudy crimson dress and an equally obnoxious golden crown shaped like dragons horns.

He coughed, "I don't think less of you, only that something terrible must have happened."

She took her seat and Jon followed suit.

The door clicked open again before she could respond, a servant girl with a tea pot and two cups. The baby dragon Rhaego nipped at the girls ankles, following her into the room. The little creature, unable to fly, clawed its way up the side of the desk, nicking the wood. Daenerys instantly calmed at the presence of Rhaego, she scooped him into her arms.

The room was silent as the servant poured the tea, at Queen Daenerys thanks the girl left the room, only then did the conversation resume.

"I'll tell you exactly what happened, only because I know it will spread around King's Landing like dragon fire," She sighed. "A man claiming to be my eldest Rhaegar's son has appeared to demand his rightful throne. He looks the part and even has a Targaryen sword."

"So what, he can't prove his parentage, silver hair and lavender eyes are rare but not only in the Targaryen line and anyone can buy or steel a sword."

"You sound like Jorah," She gave him a slight smile, it wasn't a happy one, "There is a way to prove it though, if he can survive fire then he must be a true Targaryen. Though the chances are slim he'll survive, even my older brother didn't."

She looked to the portrait on the wall.

"How did your brother die," He couldn't help but ask.

"My brother sold me to a Dothraki warlord for an army to win back his crown. He was exceedingly impatient, even attacking me when I was pregnant to try to force the Dothraki to do his bidding. My husband didn't take the abuse of his wife and unborn child well and gave my brother the crown he lusted after. Though not the crown he wanted, he got molten gold poured on his head," Daenerys sighed.

"I'm sorry milady," He thought it was the right thing to say, even though he agreed one hundred percent with her Dothraki husband. "But if your own brother couldn't survive what makes you think this stranger will?"

"It's the possibilities of what will happen on the slim chance he _does _survive," She sighed and put her head in her hands. Rhaego climbed up her shoulder and nipped her ear to get attention, "I'll lose everything I worked for, my throne, my home, my title."

"How can you say that? You _won _this throne, all of your support won't just automatically go to this man," Jon argued.

"Oh I had no idea you were so naïve commander Snow, " A humorless chuckle escaped the Queen's rosy lips, "I am a woman, a woman who can't have children and refuses to marry. Of course all of my supporters will rally to _a man._ If I'm lucky this man will try to continue the Targaryen tradition of old, marrying within the family but will probably have me killed once he finds out I can't have children."

Jon stared wide eyed, shocked at what she was telling him, the trust she was putting in him.

She seemed to realize to, meeting his dark eyes with her lavender ones, "I don't know why I'm telling you this, perhaps because Jorah refuses to listen even on the off chance this man truly is related to me nonetheless I'm sorry I vented to you. I shouldn't have told you so much."

"It is quite alright, m'lady," Jon answered, "I understand more than you know."

The Queen gave him a curious look before sighing, "Now what is the true reason you were waiting in my sitting room?"

Jon had nearly forgotten, raising the hand with the list he handed it to her. Hearing the Queen's story had made him grip his fists so hard that the paper was crumpled and nearly ripped ,"The list of men I wish to take North."

"Aye," Her luminescent eyes grazed the list, "Not many decided to take the black did they? Unfortunate. These men would rather take the gallows."

"It's not surprising, many men would rather die than face a life freezing and celibate" Jon replied, he was honestly surprised even ten wanted to take the Black.

"Then why did you purposely take the black?" She wondered aloud, he could tell she was just asking to get her mind off of the impending roast of her 'nephew'.

He wondered how she knew that, he gave a slight grin, she had done her research on him. He decided he would be completely honest with her, even though part of him knew it wasn't smart. Just because they playing at being nice didn't mean they truly were. Even if they could talk and _begrudgingly_ enjoy each other's company it didn't negate the fact the Queen wanted the North for her own.

And he would_ never_ give it to her.

Until Rickon came of age, it was his land to protect and he wouldn't let his little brother down.

He sighed and started his story, "My uncle Benjen Stark was a ranger, a warrior of the Watch, being a bastard, I knew I'd never hold a position of honor in Winterfell, instead at his suggestion I took the black and made a name for myself."

"Why do you call yourself a bastard in such a way? It's an insult," Daenerys asked.

"A man once told me that I should wear it as a badge of honor, that the world wouldn't forget what I was so why should I?"

"Sounds like a wise man," She whispered.

He snickered,"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew who said it."

"Who?"

"Tyrion Lannister, son to Tywin Lannister who killed your father and your sister-in-law under his orders," Jon explained.

She gave an angry sigh, "You were right, I sure don't like it, nonetheless isn't he the Tyrion Lannister who killed his father? I believe I'd quite like the man."

Her angry expression turned into a wry grin, transforming her face into one more beautiful than Sansa and Val, his wilding friend, combined.

He laughed, "The man does grow on you."

They seemed to realize they were laughing together and immediately stopped.

After a moment of awkward silence Jon coughed, "Well if I have your approval I'll set out with my charges tonight."

"Alright then," She nodded, giving him a curious look, "I'll have my Unsullied escort you and these men out of the city, for obvious reasons."

"Aye your majesty," He nodded turning to leave.

When he reached the door frame she called out to his, "Commander Snow—Jon, thanks for listening today."

"It was my pleasure," Jon smiled and left the room.

He waiting until the wooden door clicked shut before he broke into a run down the stone corridors of the castle. What was he doing? What was he thinking? After that terrifying dream the night before, he shouldn't have been so friendly.

He was just hurting himself.

She was a Queen.

He was just a low crow, sworn to a life of poverty and celibacy.

He didn't deserve her and he never would.

* * *

Arya and Gendry stood at the great gate of King's Landing. She had a makeshift pack tied over her back and shawl wrapped around her shoulders partially covering her face in case anyone recognized her.

"Well _Arry_, it's been quite a trip down memory lane seeing you again," The tall man gave her an awkward hug, his face was strained and she couldn't read the emotion behind it.

"Same to you, Gendry," She sighed. "You know you can come with me, make the trip North for old time's sake. You know but make it to our intended destination this time."

"You know I can't I own a smith here," He looked shocked at the suggestion and was that a wee bit of hopefulness she detected?

She put her hands on her hips, "So you're going to let me _a lady _journey that far alone by myself, what does the gentleman in you think about that?"

"I'm not falling into your guilt trip, despite the fact that we _both _know you are just fine on your own, I am worried about your safety," Gendry slicked a rough hand through his hair and gave her an irritated look.

"Fine, I know I shouldn't have asked in the first place," A smirk stretching across her lips, "Take care of yourself old friend."

She turned to leave and a rough, calloused hand pulled her back. She almost tripped over her own feet but Gendry pulled her in close and kissed her.

Eyes wide she waited for him to stop, heart thumping madly against her chest. The second his hands let go of her she did what she did to him ten years go.

She ran away from him.

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_**A/N: Please review and let me know what you think! :] Let me know about typos or spelling errors!**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Let me know about typos! I never seem to catch them all no matter how many times I read through **_

* * *

Sansa watched the Hound take out ten rangers of the Night's Watch. What was supposed to be a training exercise had turned into the Hound beating them, _badly._

"Ser, could you teach me that twisting stroke of your sword?" One of the men asked, shaking snow off of his dark clothes, excited they had a great swordsman working with them.

"I'm not a Ser, never was," the Hound growled at him, "And don't ever call me that again if you fancy having you head attached to your neck."

Sansa winced knowing he meant every word of it.

The men of the Night's Watch just laughed his gruffness off and continued their brawl.

The Hound quirked his good eyebrow, surprised and a little annoyed his crotchetiness wasn't working on them.

Sansa watched him in silence, wary of his motives, Sam on one side of her and Ghost on the other.

He was dressed in the black of the Watch, for some reason unknown to her, without the shiny, metallic armor the burnt side of his face was far less noticeable.

"Hound!" Rickon ran out with his little short sword, "I want to spar too."

Shaggydog ran behind him, the black behemoth of a direwolf nipping at his master's heels. He barked and it rang out through the clearing loudly.

"Go away kid, you'll just get hurt," The Hound turned to glare at the youngest Stark.

"Rickon! Come over here!" Sansa didn't want the big man to accidently hurt her brother.

The Hound gave her a sinister look, "Fine boy, you can stay, do you know how to hold the sword?"

Rickon turned to look at Sansa for permission

Sansa sighed and waved her hand, he was trying to one-up her. He probably wouldn't hurt Rickon, probably. Hopefully… she sighed, who could take the Hound in a fight if something did go wrong? They'd need one of the Queen's dragons! Or perhaps Ghost and Shaggydog combined could take him out.

"Shaggydog!" She called to Ghost's brother, beckoning him over so he didn't get underfoot. He padded over wagging his tail and barking, Shaggydog sat down next to his brother. He licked his Ghost's face, to which Ghost growled slightly in response.

They looked like night and day. And it wasn't just the monochromatic difference. Ghost had been trained at the wall, he was a soldier like Jon, calm and poised and ready to strike. Dangerous in a clever, sinister way.

Shaggydog was half-wild, most of his life on the run with Rickon and the wildling woman Osha, He was a sheer force of power, the danger in him in his untamed personality.

But he had been missing Summer terribly, the ocher direwolf the only one who could calm Shaggydog down.

Sansa still wished Lady was alive.

The Hound's voice drew her from her thoughts.

"Good," The Hound nodded, almost unwilling to praise the boy, "Who taught you the sword?"

"My sister!" Rickon smiled, just as wild and loud as Shaggy Dog.

The Hound pointed to Sansa, "This one? The little bird knows how to fight?"

Sam had been getting more and more tense at her side, "Master Clegane, I-I don't think the nickname is a-a-appropriate, Sansa Stark is a p-princess of the North and she sh-should be addressed as such."

Sansa turned to look at Sam, surprised at the meister's reprimand. Did Sam have a deathwish?

Everyone in the clearing grew very quiet, even Rickon stilled.

After a few endless moments of silence, the Hound bent his knee.

"Terribly sorry, milady, I beg your forgiveness," He didn't look a bit sorry and it just made her a thousand times more suspicious.

She swallowed hard, "It's quite alright."

Sam stared at her in shock.

* * *

They gathered on an open field next to the Red Keep, covered in flat green grass, it had once been home to many farms but since the War of Five Kings it had all but been abandoned.

'Aegon' stood with his back to her, Blackfyre strapped to his back, he was telling his men how he would change King's Landing _when _he was king. Apparently, he had brought a small army.

Dany had called her remaining Dothraki and Unsullied, most of the men she'd brought with her to the Seven Kingdoms were out on patrol, most were across the Narrow Sea ruling in her stead.

Other officials had gathered to, namely Martell's of Dorne who had been her staunchest supporters, seeing as Elia Martell would've been her sister-in-law and the Daenerys she was named after had been wed to one as well.

Tyrell's and Lannister's were also present, despite having to give the throne to her they had been seemingly obedient out of fear of her dragons. Also in attendance were septons and silent sisters, as well as meisters and alchemists and their apprentices. Far back, she could see Bran Stark in his wheeled chair, his conspicuous direwolf missing.

She was starting to get nervous, despite Joran and Jon's assurance. When had she started thinking of him as _Jon_ instead of Commander Snow? She shook that thought away.

Sure she had her dragons but that didn't ensure her kingdom's loyalty on the off chance he was a true Targaryen. And her large scaley children didn't guarantee her safety either. She sighed and Jorah patter her back in comfort. She looked up and gave the aging man a weak smile.

"It'll be alright," Jorah assured.

She wasn't sure.

'Aegon' approached and threw a bunch of papers at her, most of them landed in the wet grass, Greyworm caught a few, "Here are the documents you wanted me to sign."

They had made him sign documents to ensure Drogon's burning him was legal and it couldn't be considered a war crime, that 'Aegon' was a willing participant.

Jorah growled at her side, "The blatant disrespect you are showing Queen Daenerys is really grating on my nerves."

On hers too, she glared at the boy. Drogon leaned his giant head down and nuzzled her face, almost knocking her over. His lethal scales would cut anybody else but to her they just felt smooth, she rubbed his head, she prayed he wouldn't fail her.

Drogon and Viserion, the white, were present, baby Rhaego on her shoulder. Rhaegal was still perched on the Red Keep, always the attentive guard.

"Are we going to do this?" 'Aegon' asked, if he was truly her brother Rhaegar's youngest then he would be just a bit older than her, a year at most but he sure didn't act like it.

"He reminds me of Joffrey," Barristan Selmy whispered at her side, he had been a part of the King's guard but after dealing with young King Joffrey he had joined her side and saved her life time and time again, under the guise of an old squire named Arstan. He was very old now, too old to be part of her Queen's guard but he was still a trusted advisor.

"Yes," Dany sighed, the crowd cleared, all moving behind her and her dragons, leaving 'Aegon' alone on one side of the field, his back to the sea.

Drogon's head was still hovering over her, she reached up to scratch him under the chin, a great rumble of a purr escaped the great lizard, "Are you ready my Drogon?"

Drogon was the largest of her dragons, easily as large as the Red Keep, and he knew it. He was sweet and protective to her but he was quite arrogant and unfriendly to the rest of the human population. In a way, his personality was very similar to her late husband Drogo's.

He lumbered forward, his black scales looked as slick as oil under the bright Southron light, moving sinuously toward her supposed nephew.

'Aegon' visibly tensed, his hands clenched in front of him in a soldier's stance, his violet eyes looked a tad nervous.

"Now Drogon!" Daenerys yelled and Drogon released a great stream of thick black fire. It incinerated the grass as it flowed toward 'Aegon'.

The massive flame hit 'Aegon' and continued through him out toward the sea.

The crowd stilled, utterly silent waiting for Drogon's flames to clear.

Daenerys held her breath, Rhaego's claws deeply embedded in her shoulder.

Drogon's flame seemed to burn for an eternity, dark smoke twisting up toward the sky.

Eventually the smoke and flame cleared, and there stood an unscathed Aegon Targaryen with a smirk on his face.

Dany gasped.

* * *

_"You suffer the same problem as _your father," _Catelyn mocked, "Too honorable for your own good. It'll get you killed just the same as him." _

_Jon stared up at her, sitting on his haunches in the snow, the wind twisting through his white fur. _

_He knew it wasn't true, he wasn't honorable in the slightest. He wouldn't have used Night's Watch for his own means and used his little sister in an assassination attempt if he was as honorable as Eddard Stark._

_"Though abandoning your oaths won't help you either," Catelyn had appeared in her dead form this time, all dried blood and gray skin, "That's what got your brother Rob killed."_

_Jon whimpered at that, how he missed Rob._

_"Don't look up at me with those sorrowful red eyes, all I can do is sit around and watch, waiting for you to die," Catelyn sighed, "How I long for it."_

_"You shouldn't" Jon growled, his voice caught between a wolf's howl and a human's voice, "I keep Bran, Sansa, Arya and Rickon safe."_

_Catelyn cursed, "You're abandoning Bran! Leaving him in the Dragon's nest! Don't you love him?"_

_"I do! I believe he's fine here for now! I believe I've made peace with Queen Daenerys," Jon argued, struggling with human speech in his lupine body, his extended and heavily fanged jaw made speaking quite difficult. _

_Catelyn was eerily silent, glaring at him._

Jon's dreams of Catelyn were starting to haunt him, he had been terrified of the woman as a child but hadn't thought of her in years before his visit to King's Landing. He wondered why he was dreaming of her now.

Jon shook his head, as if he could shake the haunting dream away.

A group of Unsullied marched Jon and his ten men out of King's Landing, Summer marched at his side, looking around and taking in the strange city. Bran had been grateful to see Summer again but had made him go with Jon north. Bran had told him it was to keep Jon safe on the road and that Summer would be much happier home with his brothers but Jon knew he had other reasons. It was too conspicuous to keep the great direwolf with him.

The Unsullied were the best soldiers he had ever seen, quiet and obedient. He was used to leading his pack of criminal misfits, he wondered what it would be like to lead a group of great soldiers. He turned to look at the lot he was taking with him, three robbers, one rapist (who he would have to keep a very close eye on around Sansa), two murderers and two boys that had willingly taken the black, the eldest looked about twenty and the other about fourteen.

He figured leading a real group of soldiers would probably be very boring anyways. They had almost neared the gate when a man called out to him.

"Commander Snow! Commander Snow!" He turned to see a tall man with black hair and blue eyes, covered in soot. A blacksmith perhaps? He carried what appeared to be a large sword sheather in leather and wrapped in dark gray silk.

The group stopped, the Unsullied closing in around the rapist and two murderers. Jon turned to them, "Can I have a moment?"

The Unsullied nodded silently and moved the group ten feet away.

"Do I know you?" Jon turned to look at the man.

"I am an old friend of your sisters," The man started.

Jon's brow furrowed,"Sansa?"

"Arya," He leaned in close and whispered, "She is safe, left yesterday morning."

Jon breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you for letting me know, I do appreciate it. For reasons I'm sure you're aware of, I beg of you to keep her time in King's Landing a secret."

The man nodded, Jon took a closer look at him, he was probably around Jon's age, perhaps a year or two younger, "Of course, I wanted you to take a present for your family, for the future Lord of Winterfell, Rickon Stark."

He handed the sword to him; Jon gave him a curious look. Jon unwrapped the silk around it and nearly jumped back. It was like seeing the ghost of his father. It was the ancestral sword of House Stark, the Valyrian blade Ice, "How?!"

His father had wielded it in battle and Stark's had used it for more than four hundred years. But it had in turn been used to execute his father.

He had thought the Lannister's melted it down and named it Widow's Wail and then the story went that Jaime Lannister had given it to Brienne of Tarth who named it Oathkeeper, she had died after bringing Sansa to the Wall. Oathkeeper was kept in Sansa's room, as reminder of Brienne.

"I know what you're thinking but it is really Ice," The man whispered, "The Lannister's had you lot believing they'd melted it down but instead they had it destroyed and kept it hidden in the Red Keep, I'm a blacksmith and forge weapons for the Queen's men, the pieces of it were given to me by Jorah Mormont at the Queen's request to reforge it for you."

"It is a great present," Jon Snow stared at Ice with mixed feelings, "Thank you, uh I didn't catch your name."

"Gendry," Gendry gave him a smile, there was a large smear of soot on his face.

"I'll give my sister your greetings," Jon nodded.

"Thank you Commander Snow."

"Call me Jon," Jon gave the man a grin, strapping Ice on his back next to Longclaw, he was a tad excited about giving the sword to Rickon. He wondered if he should wait until his next Name Day to do so or just give it to him the second he arrived home.

They nodded at each other and went their separate ways.

Jon left King's Landing and led his men North with a smile on his face.

* * *

_****__**I'm evil for the Dany cliffhanger! :]**_

_****__** I hope you enjoy this chapter! :] Please leave a review, they make my day!**_

_**Go on, leave a review, you know you want too :] **_


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: THANKS TO ALL THOSE WHO REVIEW YOU MAKE MY DAY :]**_

* * *

The events following Aegon's survival passed like a blur in Daenerys eyes. Aegon's men attacked her small group of Unsullied and Dothraki, for a moment they held their own but being outnumbered they quickly lost their ground.

Some of Aegon's men threw magical chains over her dragons, securing them to the ground and their mouths were forced shut. Smoke escaped both of their nostrils, their eyes glinting trying to reach their mother to protect her but the magic chains were not to be overcome.

Aegon drew Blackfyre and called for his banner men, all of the houses of the Seven Kingdoms who showed allegiance to the Targaryen line flocked to him, including the strong Martells. Barristan Selmy, Rhaqaro and Jorah quickly flanked her, protecting Daenerys. She clenched Rhaego to her chest so no one could take him from her too.

Aegon attacked with his men, he slew Barristan Selmy, slicing through him as one would slice through warm butter. She was in shock, her reaction time delayed, she tried to shake herself out of it but all she could do was gape at the body of her former guard.

Rhaqaro kicked Aegon away, his Dothraki size coming in handy; he had probably fractured a few of Aegon's ribs.

Dany, Jorah and Rhaqaro ran. Her legs were too short to keep up with them and eventually Jorah threw her over his shoulder.

_Everything she had worked for._

_All of the struggles she had overcome._

_Gone…._

She had had the Seven Kingdoms in her grasp and she had lost them.

_Drogo._

If he was here no one would dare challenge her, no one would dare oppose her, her heart panged for her dead husband.

She had thought herself so clever, so smart, so _invincible._

She had appeared with dragons and they had all but thrown the crown at her. Now she was coming to realize that having three full size dragons didn't make one a ruler.

It was bloodshed.

Drogo had tried to teach her, that might was right. But Dany was convinced she could rule with a peaceful hand. She clearly couldn't.

They had made it a mile or two away before some of Aegon's men on horses cut them off.

The man approached on a horse, his hand on his ribs and a malevolent glare on his attractive, pale face.

"Aunt Daenerys," He smiled, "I'd like to offer you the chance to be my bride, in the Targaryen tradition of old, I will be the King and you shall be my wife, and together we can continue the Targaryen line."

Why hadn't she seen it before? The lines of his jaw were the exact same ones as her brother Viserys, his brow bones and eye shape the same as Rhaegar's.

She stared at him in panic, unable to speak, Jorah answered for her, "Never, you have slain her men without proper cause to do so! These are tantamount to war crimes, you will pay for them!"

"Let her answer for herself," He said, silencing Jorah.

"Never," She whispered looking at the ground, gritting her teeth, she slowly looked up and met his eyes, they were the exact same shade of violet as hers, "I will never wed you, be your queen or share your bed. Even if I could bear children or submit to a man, it would never be with the likes of you."

"Then you will die," He sighed in mock disappointment, he wasn't the least bit upset, she could practically see the bloodlust pulsating off of him, he _wanted_ to kill her. He was as blood thirsty as a dragon.

"A perfect visage of the Mad King," Jorah snapped at the man.

Aegon turned his eyes to Jorah, "Jorah Mormont, your uses as Hand will no longer be needed."

He turned to his men, "Kill Mormont and the Dothraki, leave _Queen_ Daenerys unscathed for me, I want to kill her myself."

His men attacked, Rhaqaro parried with his arakh and Jorah swung his sword.

A great screech in the sky stopped the fighting, it was Rhaegal. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Bronze and green flames consumed the field, burning a few of Aegon's men, Rhaegal the slow roaster had arrived.

Jorah squeezed her upper arm, "Escape on Rhaegal, now!"

Dany looked up at him, he had loved her as more than a Queen, but she had looked up to him like a father, "Come with me, you and Rhaqaro."

Jorah shook his head, "You don't have a dragon saddle, his scales will cut us but they won't cut you my dragoness, escape now!"

Rhaqaro turned to her too, "Go!"

Rhaegal didn't waste any time, he closed one of his great bronze claws around her and pulled her into the sky. Rhaego dug his little claws even further into her shoulder, squeeking in terror, she knew he cried for his mother and father.

She wanted to do the same, squeak in terror as Rhaegal carried her away from the Seven Kingdoms and out towards the sea.

She could only watch as Aegon swung Blackfyre down on Jorah.

* * *

Months had passed since Jon made it back to the Wall. Arya had beaten him by two weeks, it had taken him a month and week to reach his home, the trek hadn't been a hard one but walking past Winterfell had been exceedingly hard.

Winterfell had been rebuilt, farmers still lived around it and bannermen still waited for the ruling House to return home but the crypts had been cemented shut and the castle abandoned.

Bran had told Jon about a secret passage into the crypts and Jon had used it, he sat at his father's statue for what seemed like an eternity. He missed the man terribly.

He had been met with many surprises upon returning home, a lot more of Stannis' men had returned to take the black. He had also found that the dreaded Hound had also chosen a life on the wall.

Arya remembered the brute from her childhood and had been increasingly hostile to the man but after a few sparring sessions with him they had come to some understanding. Both had taken on training Rickon.

The Hound had decided that instead of taking the black, he'd liked to be a guardsmen of the future Lord Stark, being the last Clegane he pledged fealty to House Stark.

Sansa had accepted the offer immediately much to Jon and Arya's surprise. She was the eldest true Stark and was in the eyes of the law, Rickon's regent until he came of age at sixteen.

Life continued on.

Jon began training his new men, two of the thieves, the rapist, one murderer and one of the boys became rangers. The other boy and thief became stewards. The second murderer had tried to escape and Jon had beheaded him with Longclaw.

It wasn't long before word reached the Wall that Aegon Targaryen ruled the Seven Kingdoms now. The black and white dragons were held captive, Jorah Mormont dead and Queen Daenerys and the green dragon missing.

Arya looked to Jon a bit relieved, their intended goal had come to pass, the threat to the North gone in her eyes but Jon felt the opposite of relief.

Upon hearing the news, Jon felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Rickon had jumped to steady his eldest brother, keeping him from falling over. Jon was shocked at his reaction, he couldn't even stand on his own, what did it mean? Arya and Rickon had helped him to his office chair, Sansa had run off to get Sam to check on him.

Sam returned with his wilding friend, the outspoken and semi-obnoxious Val, nagging at his heels. She had become on his good friends when he was pretending to be a deserter, she had been the sister-in-law and trusted advisor of Mance Ryder and had helped the Watch form an alliance with the Wildlings to fight the white walkers and wights. After the death of her family, she had taken up residence with the remaining Starks and had taken an immense liking to Sansa. Jon was sure that when Rickon was old enough and the true Stark children returned to Winterfell, Val would leave to be with Sansa.

Sam checked his pulse and temperature, the back of his pudgy hand pressing against his forehead and then both his cheeks. He claimed Jon just needed to relax and keep of his feet, he promised to return later to check on him.

Jon had put his head in his hands, "I need some alone time, please."

His siblings stared at him in shock, "I will see you all at dinner, I just need a bit of silence."

All but Val left, she never did take orders well, instead the beautiful golden haired woman took the seat in front of his desk, "So I hear you fainted at hearing the Dragon Lady was ousted by her nephew."

"Val," He snapped in warning, "Leave it."

She smiled, "You love her don't you?"

_Love?_ Jon was aghast at the thought, "No I don't, we just connected a bit, we talked and I came to find we had a great deal in common. I began to think of her as a friend, nothing more."

Val nodded in understanding, not believing a word of it.

"There hasn't been anyone since Ygritte has there?" Val asked. She tended to say what everyone else was thinking but was too polite to say. Sometimes just when he started thinking of her a lady, she did something that was conspicuously _Wildling. _Her eyes were pale gray and alight with confusion and frustration. She didn't wait for him to answer.

She furrowed her brow and shook her hand in front of her, "I don't understand any one this, where I'm from if you want someone you _take _them, you grab them by the throat or hair and tell them you want them and don't give a second thought to what other's think. We don't dance around the issue and torture ourselves with longing. You're a man, you have needs that need to be met, not just physically but emotionally too."

"I can't, I have duties, she was a Queen, a highborn lady, a Targaryen, I'm a bloody bastard sworn to a life of celibacy," He blurted out, no point in arguing with Val. It wasn't like she'd go around spouting his secrets; she may have been blunt but made up for it in equal parts trustworthiness and loyalty.

"That's bullshit, one thing I hate about this society of yours is the _titles, _can't stand them, we love someone, we take them, we lust someone, we fuck them, it's simple," She shook her head, "The wars, the suffering, the hatred of your people stems from denying yourselves."

It made sense but without their titles how would they remain structured? Before he could answer she continued, "I finally understand the celibacy vow. It's not meant to keep you from getting distracted, it's not meant to leave you with violent, pent up sexual energy to release on your enemies in battle, it's meant to punish those who were sentenced to death and chose the wall, _not_ the willing participants."

"What are you saying?" The celibacy creed had been in effect forever, since Bran the Builder had created the Wall with ice and magic.

"The celibacy vow is a cruel punishment to the bad men who must serve on the wall, not for those few good ones who _choose _to serve, being celibate doesn't make you stronger, it makes you weaker," She slammed a hand down on the table, "Imagine for a moment Jon, for which would you fight stronger for? A lonely, cold bed made of straw, in a room that you share with five other men or a bed of silks and furs next to a roaring fire with the naked form of a woman who waits for you and loves you with all her heart and aches to welcome you home?"

He knew the answer and she knew it too, for a moment he even entertained the thought of Queen Daenerys in his bed, waiting for him.

"Thank Val, you've given me a lot to think about," Jon nodded to the wildling woman, "But for now, I'm tired of this talk of dragons and wolves."

Val rolled her eyes at him, "Saved your sanity more like, little Jon Snow, where would you be if you didn't have me guiding you?"

She left and Jon sighed in relief, he turned and looked down at Ghost.

"How about a run before dinner?"

* * *

King's Landing had changed, the alchemists and maester's all but banned from the Red Keep. The remaining two dragons were captive and forever trying to escape.

Bran rarely left the Alchemist's Guildhall out of fear. Rumor was that Aegon was just as mad as his grandfather Aerys, intent on bringing all of the Seven Kingdoms into submission. At first, he though the last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself, he didn't want to be like Arya and Sansa, a pawn in a game of thrones, a pawn in a deadly chess game.

But the more he thought about it, the more he changed his mind. His legs might not work but he had his own defenses.

At night he ran with Summer, Shaggydog and Ghost through the dense woods and snow, the frigid air cleared his lungs and the muscles in his legs strained as he ran. Sometimes, he took the form of a bird and let the wind run through his feathers like a lover's fingers. He flew through wispy clouds and climbed so high he could no longer breathe. He studied the constellations that were so clear in the Northern sky as well as greens and blues of the Northern Lights.

During the days though, he stayed in his little cell, all apprentices had a small cell to stay in, filled with books, papers and equipment to make wildfire. Wildfire was the guild's specialty but with the return of the dragons there was magic in the world again and the alchemists were rediscovering powers long thought lost, like the ability to transmute metal and stone.

Over the months since the rise of Aegon, he became very adept and combined with his…_other talents _he was beginning to think himself strong. When Theon had sacked Winterfell and he had split from Rickon, Bran had travelled with Hodor, Meera and Jojen. He had learned he was not only a warg but a greenseer as well, capable of seeing prophetic dreams. Over the years in the wilderness, training with the remaining Children of the Forest and the Three Eyed Crow, he had fortified his skills. Unlike his siblings, he was a much stronger warg and had used far more than his own direwolf to warg into, he had used birds, wolves, and shadowcats.

When they were most desperate on their way North, Bran had even warged into Hodor to fight enemies as well as the faces of weirwood trees to spy on their enemies.

Bran thoughr of these abilities often, reminding himself that even though he was crippled he wasn't powerless. He knew it was only a matter of time before Aegon started a war with the North and Aegon would find him in his little cell in the Guildhall.

He liked to daydream about what he would do while he worked, could he warg into one of the captive dragon's bodies and escape? Or could he warg into Aegon (breaking all of the rules the Three Eyed Crow taught him) and rule the Seven Kingdoms?

He shook the thought away, thinking back to a conversation he had with Melisandre, the sorceress.

_Hodor carried Bran out of Castle Black so he could breathe the fresh air. It was horribly cold but after years of being in a snowy wilderness, it was nothing to Bran or Hodor. _

_Bran sighed in relief, he hated his duties as acting Lord Stark, his family liked to pretend he could still be Lord and Protector of Winterfell and talked of returning home. They were sure to wed him to a woman, one Bran figured would be beautiful but being crippled he would never be able to make love to her or father Stark heirs._

_He sighed in frustration. _

_"Hodor?" Hodor whispered, worried about Bran._

_"Poor little greenseer, a dangerous monster hiding in human's skin," Bran turned his head to look at the sorceress Melisandre approaching, she was barefoot and the snow beneath her feet melted away._

_"Excuse me?" Bran acted as if he didn't hear her but he was unsettled by what she had said._

_A knowing smile stretched on her tanned face, "Your eyes grow greener by the day, you can't deny your heritage Bran Stark, you have the greensight. You play at human and call yourself Lord Stark but I know what you've done, you've run in the body of your wolf and consumed human flesh in his body, you've bent the will of other animals too, shadowcats and birds alike and spied on the innocent through weirwoods. You've even commited the most heinous of acts, stealing a human's form, taken the body of this simpleton and one other man—the man Meera Reed had taken a liking too, what was his name?"_

_Bran was truly unsettled, he wondered if she truly had visions after all, but covered his shocked expression with a cough, he refused to answer her question, "And you're just a demon of shadow and fire masking as a woman." _

_"I was just a human girl once, a slave named Melony, better known as Lot 7 at the auctions," Melisandre's lips pursed, "Now I'm powerful."_

_She paused before continuing._

_ "Brandon Stark in all your trainings have you learned about the four elements? Fire, water, earth and air?" She gave him a sinister smile, "Each of these elements has their own strengths and weaknesses and it just so happens your element—earth, is weak to mine—fire. Fire burns the earth."_

_Bran laughed at her, "Melisandre, you seem to be confused about the elements. Fire doesn't burn without the presence of Air and Earth mixed together. And what happens when you heat earth? It becomes molten and exceedingly dangerous, melting through _everything._ It is your element that is weak and it would do you great good to remember that."_

_ "War changes people, I used to be a disobedient boy who liked to climb and was bad at archery," Bran sighed. "I know what you're planning sorceress, you claim to have visions but I really do and I will stop you, even if I have to warg into your body to do so."_

_There was no subtlety in his threat, there was no point in it._

_Melisandre stared at him in shock as Hodor carried him away._

Bran shook his head, the memory drifting away. Melisandre was dead, killed by fire, the one thing she thought she was in complete control of. He still felt the same though, to protect the North and his family he'd do anything.

If Aegon wanted to hold him hostage, then let the man try.

* * *

**_It takes long hours to write, edit and make sure there's no continuity issues. Please leave a review to let me know you like the story :] _**


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: **_

_**Please leave a review! They make my day! :]**_

* * *

Daenerys rode Rhaegal for what seemed like forever, Rhaego clinging to her breast.

She was numb, Rhaqaro and Jorah sure to be dead, her dragon children being forced to obey Aegon.

They rode across the Narrow Sea, at first she thought to gather her strength and return with her full armies.

It was a long journey and Daenerys couldn't remember the last time she ate or drank.

During the nights she slept on Rhaegal's back, clinging to one of his large neck spikes she slept easily. During the days, she turned over bathing in the sun.

Sometimes Rhaegal flew high in the sky, absorbing the sun he loved so much. The warmth seemed to nourish Daenerys too, enjoying the sunbathing as much as her children.

And sometimes he flew close to the gray, unmarred surface of the ocean. She liked to lean down and graze the frigid water with her fingertips.

Eventually they landed in a very unpopulated area near a stream, it took moment for Daenerys to adjust to solid ground again. She crawled over to the stream and took her fill of water, she laid in the grass for a long time. The grass was itchy but a thousand times more desirable than dragon scales, she rolled in it and sighed. She thought of Jorah and how he once told her that the Dothraki believed that the grass would one day cover everything and that's how to world would end.

To her, it seemed like the world had already ended. She had won and then been beat. She had been so naïve to believe she'd win the Iron Throne and that would be the end of her troubles.

Both Rhaegal and Rhaego padded over to her and drank from the stream, Daenerys held Rhaego so he wouldn't fall in.

After Rhaegal flew off to hunt in a nearby wooded area, Daenerys decided to hunt for herself, she found a fallen branch and waded into the water. She had a fond memory Barristan Selmy teaching her to hunt in a similar way. Like he had taught her, she stood perfectly still in the water for quite a while, her stick raised over her head so long she thought her arm would fall off. The water grew calm around her and fish started to swim around her. And one by one she caught five fish, until the sun started to set.

Rhaegal returned by night fall and started a bright green fire for them, Dany made a makeshift spit and started to grill the fish over the flames. Rhaego chirped hungrily at her side, excited about the idea of meat.

Daenerys was just as excited, she hadn't been this hungry since the first few days after her wedding to Drogo and she refused to eat horse meat or drink horse milk.

She pulled the fish of the spit and gave three to Rhaego, he was growing and fast, he needed more food than her.

The other two she had nearly consumed whole, spitting the bones out and tossing them aside. Rhaego had finished his fish before her and ate the fish bones she threw aside.

She wondered if she should continue East to find her armies.

Though she was unwilling, tears started to stream down her face and before she knew she was full on sobbing.

Both of her dragons looked confused on how to handle the crying female and she quickly tried to stop, breathing deeply.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

Through breathing, Dany calmed herself and decided to try and look at her predicament logically.

Gathering her armies would be the logical thing to do, raise her armies and attack. But how well would that fair?

She tallied all of her assets on one of her hands. A couple thousand Unsullied, a couple thousand Dothraki and their horses (who refused to cross the Narrow Sea), one baby dragon and one full dragon. Four marks in her favor, if she even counted Rhaego and the Dothraki.

She did the same for Aegon. The Targaryen sword Blackfyre that apparently could cut through anything, two full-grown dragons, the advantage of being on home soil, the strength of the Red Keep, the army and bannermen of the Seven Kingdoms, plus the men he'd brought with him from the east and he also had the alchemists with their growing magics.

Dany sighed, 4 to 8. She was seriously outmatched and she didn't even have Drogo, Jorah or Barristan to help her. Rhaego hopped into her lap and nipped at her chin, she calmed him by rubbing his scales.

Who would she turn to for help this time?

_Jon._

Dany shook the thought away, Jon Snow Commander of the Night's Watch? For one the Night's Watch was never supposed to take sides in a war, they had to remain neutral. Two, why him? Why would he help her?

She had perceived some sort of growing friendship between them, they both had overcome countless struggles and achieved greatness in their young lives.

She had seen his lingering glances, his dark eyes taking in every inch of her, she'd have to be stupid not to notice. But the man seemed to be oblivious of his own intentions, his attraction to her probably even subconscious.

She shook all thoughts of him away and returned to the matter at hand.

Dany laid down in the grass, Rhaego on her chest in a comfortable little ball. Rhaegal curled around them. She stared up at the stars.

Did she _have _to reconquer the Seven Kingdoms? In all truth, she had accomplished her goal (well Viserys' goal really), bringing the Targaryen line back to power, even if she wasn't that Targaryen in power.

Why did she have to go back?

Vengeance?

Pride?

She was under no illusions that anyone she cared for was still alive except for Drogon and Viserion. Jorah, Rhaqaro, Barristan and Greyworm probably long dead. Her handmaidens as well.

She thought of all of her travels, she had been all over the world but had she really? She had stomped through them with war on the brain, not taking the time to really enjoy the sights of the world.

She sighed and cuddled up close to Rhaegal, tomorrow she'd start her travels around the world.

Jon contacted King Aegon about continuing King's Landing's contract with the Night's watch, it had taken nearly two months to get a letter in response.

In utter shock, he read it in front of his entire company, _"To the bastard at the wall, _

_Anyone who commits a crime in King's Landing is to be executed, I believe the mercy shown to criminals in the past is why the kingdom has been in such desperate turmoil as of late. _

_I also believe you, though an unclaimed bastard of Eddard Stark, are the elder half-brother to Lord Rickon Stark, I demand he come to King's Landing and pledge his fealty to me as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. If he is not here within six months time I will take it as a declaration of war with the North and the Night's Watch and eradicate the lot of you._

_King Aegon VI ." _

The dining hall in Castle Black was utterly silent.

After a few moments of shocked silence, it was the Hound who broke it, "Well I'd kill the bastard but that's just me."

"Sounds like a great idea to me," Arya smiled, she attempted to give Jon a covert wink. Was she so eager to return to King's Landing? Jon's thoughts turned to the blacksmith for a moment.

"The Watch can't take part in this, they must remain neutral!" Sam chimed in.

Val sat next to Sansa, her arms were crossed over her ample chest, "You crows are supposed to remain neutral unless some starts a fight with _you. _If the inbred sod wants war with the Night's Watch let him have it, let them try to march up here and attempt to survive the winter. That alone will take out half his troops. Not to mention, all of your Northern bannermen, your crows _and_ the wildlings. If you tell them about the man coming, they'd choose you over the Targaryen any day."

No one dared to correct Val that _this_ particular sod wasn't inbred.

Jon nodded, Val did have a valid point, the wildlings were still loyal to him as long as he let them do whatever they wished north of the Wall, with exception of Crastor. Aegon wouldn't be nearly as accepting of them, that was for damn sure.

"And don't forget the Tully bannermen as well as our cousin Robert in the Vale, I had to take care of the boy for a while after his mother died, I might be able to convince him to support us," Sansa offered.

All of the Stark children winced at the mention of Robert Aron, the petulant brat of their mother's sister.

"Why can't I just go down there and bend the knee?" Rickon asked. Jon felt a swell of pride in the boy, his first thoughts weren't of war, unlike their brother Robb. He had loved Robb but he had been horribly impulsive, his compulsive war and spur-of-the-moment wedding had been the death of him. Rickon thankfully seemed to be developing a bit more sense.

"You idiot, only bad things happen to Starks in King's Landing, last two times a Lord Stark went down there they were killed, father was beheaded and grandpa was roasted in his armor, do you fancy taking a trip south now?" Arya yelled at Rickon.

Jon grimaced at Arya's tone with Rickon and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "While you do have a point Arya, you don't have to jump down the poor lad's throat."

Rickon stuck his tongue out at Arya.

"Jon!" Arya yelled to Jon before she turned to ring the boy's neck.

"Both of you sit still now!" Jon growled, really? Arya was a grown woman and Rickon well on his way to being a man. Had he really just been thinking about Rickon having some sense?

"Old man Frey is still alive; do you think they can even cross the Neck?" Sansa asked.

"As of six months ago, Walder Frey fell to his death, someone tortured him and then fed him to wild wolves," Arya explained, a snide snicker escaping her, "Or so I hear."

Jon had no doubt she had heard first hand—old Walder Frey's screams, on her way back North.

"So what do we do?" The entire dining hall's eyes turned to him.

Jon didn't know.

Things weren't going as Aegon planned.

The man had stormed into the Guildhall, a pale form of fury.

Bran could hear the ruckus he was causing from outside of his office. All of Bran's studying had paid off, he had been granted the status of master alchemist or as they call them—a Wisdom.

The stone doors of his office slammed open and Aegon the Sixth walked through. Bran bowed his head, unable to kneel.

"Wisdom Brandon I presume?" King Aegon asked , Bran's observant eyes studied the man, "Unless there is another crippled alchemist?"

In appearance he looked like a male version of Queen Daenerys, for a man he was rather short and slim, very lithe, the most intimidating part of him was his scary pale eyes, "Aye, your Highness, you have found the right cripple."

Bran had intended it as a joke but the man's face barely twitched, "I need something that will make the dragons more obedient to me."

"Have you tried feeding them?" Bran asked, knowing full well that the king was barely taking care of the great lizards, they were still chained up in the hills of farmland just north of King's Landing. Bran assumed he wasn't feeding them because if he took the chains off his mouth they'd burn his men but he also might be trying to weaken their wills through starvation, "Or perhaps letting them stretch their wings."

"Careful with that sarcasm," The King tried to give him an intimidating look but it didn't work on Bran, "I asked you to make me something that will force the dragons into obedience not delight me with your failing wit."

"Oh okay," Bran nodded eagerly, putting on his best Hodor impression, "I'm sorry I misunderstood your Highness, I get confused sometimes, I think it's because my legs don't work, I'll get started on the alchemy right away."

Bran could see the temper flare within Aegon, the king was barely railing it in. Aegon answered him through grit teeth, "See that you do."

The king left as quickly as he had come and Bran got started on his potion.

Unfortunately for King Aegon, his potion would _not_ have its intended effect.

The thought of going to war had sent the North in a flurry of productivity, young bannermen and wildlings had come from all over to train at Castle Black.

Sansa was rather proud of how Jon was handling the situation, he was honestly a great leader.

As a child she had played with him and loved him but as she had gotten older her perception of him had been poisoned by her mother. Her mother had portrayed him as bad, the antithesis to the songs and happily-ever-afters she loved so dearly. In the songs, when a man and woman fell in love, the man wasn't supposed to father a bastard.

But now she knew the song's she used to love were all fake, horrible things full of drunkard's innuendo and little girl pipe dreams.

Sansa was heavily embarrassed by the way she used to think and had immediately warmed to Jon again after Brienne had brought her home.

Tonight, they had had a great feast to celebrate the progress, some wildlings from the far North had brought some gigantic boars down for them to feast on and their Tully cousins had brought fresh greens.

Sansa had retired to her quarters early, she had spent the morning part of the day trying to wrestle Arya into a dress for the occasion to no avail and then had spent the rest of the day trying to convince Val _not_ to steal one of the knights from the Vale. Wildlings—men or women—tended to kidnap people they had taken a fancy too. After a few glasses of sweet wine, she decided to call it a night, having lost the fight with Val, who had snuck off with the smitten knight hours before. Tomorrow she wanted to wake early anyways, to give Rickon his lessons. Years on the run had rendered the boy practically illiterate, he knew nothing of letter or numbers and Sansa had been working tirelessly to change that.

Sansa put on her night gown and crawled under the warm covers of her bed. Thanks to the sweet wine, she fell into a deep sleep with little effort.

She awoke sometime in the night, with a hand over her mouth.

* * *

_**Please review! :D **_


	12. Chapter 12

**_Thanks for reading! Leave a review to let me know what you think! :]_**

* * *

Sansa's hands flew up to grip the hand over her mouth, her heart thumping madly in her chest.

"I can't do this any longer little bird," The Hound groaned, the scent of sweet wine heavy on his breath, he was on top of her, pressing her further into her silken sheets. She stilled and they stayed, him on top of her, for a moment. He sighed and let her go, moving off of her bed.

She hadn't been asleep that long, her fire still burned in the corner, the cracking cinders cast a pale red glow in her room.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I scared you," He sat in her desk chair, almost too big to fit in it, it groaned under his weight, "I don't know what I was thinking…"

Before she could stop herself she replied, "It's okay, it just reminded me of that night, the battle of Blackwater."

"That makes me feel worse, I was horrible to you," He slurred, her eyes went wide in shock. The Hound was unapologetic and mean. Who was this man? Was it the liquor speaking?

"It-it's quite alright, I should've just gone with you, Joffrey's beatings, the marriage to Tyrion Lannister, Littlefinger's—err abuse, wouldn't have happened if I had just listened to you," Sansa whispered, she shuddered at the thought, not sure why she was sharing these things with him, she hadn't even felt comfortable enough to tell her brother Jon of what had happened to her. The only fond memories of those times was Tyrion's kindness to her. And Joffrey's death of course.

"I wish I would've killed Joffrey for the things he did to you, it still haunts me," The Hound put his head in his hands, as if reading her mind.

"The past is in the past," Sansa whispered, telling herself more that him, she crossed her arms and rubbed her upper arms with her hands, squeezing them around herself, "You were just doing your duty."

"It's never okay to beat a woman, if I was a man of honor I would've done something," The Hound shook his head, his hands still covering his face.

"You would've gotten yourself killed," Sansa sighed, pausing for a moment, "Is that why you came here and to pledge fealty to House Stark? Because you felt guilty about the past? You have no reason to; I harbor no grudge against you."

He snickered in his hands, "Want to get rid of me that badly ehh?"

"N-no, I-I just uh—don't want you to feel badly," Sansa wasn't sure why she cared but for some reason she did.

"I've over stepped my bounds already tonight, appearing in the private quarters of lady—in her bed even, uninvited too," He sighed, "What's one more transgression? I came back because I wanted to see you because ever since Joffrey had your father killed and I saw you almost push him off the castle ledge and stand up to him, threaten that your brother Robb would behead him, I haven't been able to get you off of my mind."

"Master Clegane—" She started but the Hound shushed her with a wave of a calloused hand.

"I'm not done, I know I disgust you, my face, my temperament and the fact that I'm seven years older than you. You could never look past these things, I've come to terms with that over the years, imagining finding you."

She had thought him to be far older than her, probably due to the burns.

Sansa stared in shock as he continued, "In my darkest dreams I imagined being the one to rescue you and bring you home and being rewarded, becoming a Stark bannerman and having you married off to me as a reward. I'd imagine becoming those heroes you used to sing about and making you fall so deeply in love with me you wouldn't care about my face. And then I heard you were back home, brought back by Brienne of Tarth, I knew any shred of hope of that was gone, I convinced myself that I could come here and just watch you from afar. But I can't, I heard you speaking to Jon about arranging alliance marriages for you and Arya today and I couldn't stand the thought."

Before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet, he kept his head in his hands as she approached. His good eye widened at her in shock as she pressed her lips to his scarred mouth.

* * *

Daenerys had never felt so free. No longer crushed under the pressure of male influence or war, she flew all over the world.

First she flew east, flying over the Red Waste that had nearly killed her right after Drogo's death, this time she flew over with ease. Its stunted trees and ancient ruins weren't as forbidding as they were in her memories.

She then flew further southeast, towards the Jade sea, even greener than Rhaegal, the small sea seemed to glow in the warm Essos sunlight, they stayed there for weeks, catching fish with emerald scales and hot pink sea shells. They then went east into the Saffron straits, it stretched on for thousands of miles covered in only purple and red flowers with no other living creatures in sight, she braided the fragrant blossoms in her hair and made Rhaego begrudgingly wear a garland of them around his neck.

They stopped going eastward when they entered the fringes of the Shadow Lands, a land forever cloaked in half light, covered in grass that was probably twice her height. It reminded her of Drogo, who had once told her that the Shadow Lands grew Ghost grass that was formed from the damned souls of people. Dany landed and kept some of the tall grass. Refusing to touch it with her hands, she covered her hand in ripped clothe and tied it up, the grass was said to give people visions and that it could even drive people mad, she never knew if or when it would come in handy. Her dragons restless and refusing to travel any further into the wasteland, Rhaegal carried her south.

Further south, they came upon the Manticore Isles, covered in the monstrous creature that her Valyrian ancestors feared and worshipped in ancient times. With the tail of a scorpion, body of a lion and startling human-like heads the Manticore were a frightening species. With a pang in her heart, she remembered Jorah showing her markets in Vaes Dothrak that sold bottled Manticore poison and even sold dead ones. That day had been fun, marching into Vaes Dothrak with her husband and his blood riders, before dragons, before all of the death... before she was alone.

They flew over the Manticore Isles unhindered, the creatures fearing her massive dragon and her quickly growing youngest, the creatures flew low over their forest covered home.

They soon reached the edge of Essos and went even further south, into the largely unexplored Sothoryos, the very bottom edge of their world. Passing over the ruin covered Isle of Tears, Rhaegal quickly led them into the desolate continent.

Dany landed on the Northwest coast and came upon the kindliest group of people she had ever encountered in all of her journeys. They called themselves the Nathi and they were a musical people. It was never quiet in their villages and Dany thought for a while to stay there forever. She quickly came to love the nonstop music and their vegetarian life style, they spun clothing out of giant spider silk and made her the most beautiful dresses she had ever seen. They tattooed her hands, back and stomach with barely there silver henna, intricate designs and symbols that represented her life that only showed in fire light, trailing from the tips of her fingers to her wrists and braided blue and purple flowers into her pale hair.

She had been with them for months, learning how to grow and harvest their exotic fruits and learning to play their instruments when her urge to explore came back. Drogo would've been proud, it was as if she was becoming a Dothraki, the urge to keep moving and wandering eating her up inside. Years on the run had made staying in one place uneasy. But in the back of her head she knew she wanted to journey northwest, missing a certain Commander she had begrudgingly befriended for reasons beyond logic.

With sorrow in her heart, she left the Nathi and went Northwest. Before reaching the wall, Dany stopped in Skagos, a strange land with stranger people that seemed utterly independent from the Seven Kingdoms, even though she knew they were under Stark fealty. The men rode strange goat-like animals with a single horn in the middle of their foreheads, they called them unicorns. Baby Rhaego, who was as big as a horse now, grown strong eating the giant spiders and intoxicating fruits of Naath, took a great liking to the taste of the strange creatures.

To appease him, Dany stayed in Skagos for a time. She never grew to like it, it rained endlessly and the people were little more than cannibals and rapists, just as the books at the Red Keep had said. Men of Skagos, came to her small camp many nights, trying to kidnap her but Rhaegal managed to keep them all away. After two weeks of letting Rhaego hunt his unicorns, Dany couldn't take any more of the island and finally she journeyed to the wall.

* * *

Five months had passed since Jon had received Aegon's threatening letter and he was starting to think his ragtag group of crows, wildlings and Stark bannermen was starting to look like an actual army. They trained night and day, under the tutelage of himself, the Hound, Arya and even Brienne of Tarth who had journeyed to the wall with her squire after learning of Aegon's uprising.

While the Stark army seemed to be getting along well, the Starks themselves were in shambles. Arya seemed restless and easily agitated (well, more so than usual Jon mused) and Jon wondered if it had anything to do with the blacksmith he had met in King's Landing. He had very little correspondence with Bran, whose letters were short and quick and talked only of his Alchemical research and nothing about coming home. Rickon was pushing himself too hard, struggling to get as strong as possible before the impending war and Jon knew he was well on his way to becoming a better swordsman than him. Sansa was more withdrawn than usual and according to both Val and Brienne of Tarth, she seemed to be hiding something. And Jon himself wasn't faring any better than his siblings, he thought with time memories of the dragoness would fade but it seemed to be true what people said, absence made the heart grow fonder. It seemed he'd space out often, replaying their conversations in his head, closing his eyes and seeing her pale face.

He felt ridiculous, it seemed like a boyhood crush, a silly infatuation with no rhyme or reason, no logic behind the attachment. The queen hadn't given any signs of mutual attraction, no reason to get his hopes up. But nonetheless, he couldn't erase her from his mind and his family's quiet concern and Val's lectures weren't doing anything to stop it.

* * *

Jon rose from another night of restless sleep and dressed as quickly as possible and ran from his chambers. As was becoming his habit, he'd wake before the sun rose and run the surrounding forest with Ghost, hoping to exhaust himself into getting more sleep.

Despite the early hour, Rickon was already up practicing with his sword, Shaggy laying in the snow just out of blade's reach. He nodded to his brother and the younger nodded back but neither spoke, they had an understanding that they had things to do and no time to make small talk.

Jon and Ghost darted through the trees with ease that only wolf-like senses gave them. Jon ran until the sun was high in the gray sky and his advisors were sure to be looking for him and getting frustrated. Drenched in an uncomfortable icy sweat, Jon slowed his pace and stopped at a frozen lake.

Leaning against a cold tree, Jon breathed deeply, forcing air back into his lungs. His runs weren't working, the more he ran, the more he got used to running and a good night's rest still eluded him. The Hound had noticed and suggested he take up drinking, joking that it had always worked for him but Jon had no interest in spirits. He closed his eyes for a moment but the familiar sounds of wings beating against the wind drew him from his thoughts. His eyes widened, his eyes scanning the sky, he found what he was looking for, a bright green dot in the light gray sky.

Daenerys had arrived at the Wall.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/n: Thanks for reading!**_

* * *

Aegon had come by again, to collect another of Bran's potions. Bran snickered to himself, the king thought he was giving him a potion that would calm the dragons but he'd been giving them nothing of the sort. He told had told the king that it took a year's worth of doses to be effective and the king had been coming by weekly to collect.

Around King's Landing, everyone talked about the impending war with the North, the king's men terrified of braving the wall. Bran didn't blame him, his thoughts drifting off to nearly starving while on the run. He shook his terrible memories away, all it did was bring up thoughts of Meera. Bran had been on edge for nearly a year, he was utterly surprised the King still had no idea who his family was. Still, the king's ignorance of his heritage didn't make him any less paranoid, too nervous to write Jon or his other siblings at any length. He knew it must've been driving Sansa half mad by now.

He wheeled his way through the cobbled floors of the Guild Hall, towards his quarters. He had taken to teaching some of the apprentices, alchemy was becoming a popular trade but unfortunately not everyone was as magically inclined as he was and his students were failing horribly.

The hairs rose on the back of his neck as he drew closer to his quarters, something felt off in the air around him. The stone door of his small cell was ajar, his room in shambles, papers shredded and tossed all over, half of his books bent and broken. It was then that Bran felt a sword at his throat, his attacker's other hand squeezed his shoulder.

"The king wants to see you, Brandon….Stark," His attacker snickered. He heard another set of footsteps behind him, as he was struck in the temple with the hilt of a sword and a dark sack went over his head.

* * *

Jon stared at the former queen in shock, never before had he seen a sight so beautiful, he would've thought her pale hair and coloring would've made her blend in to their snowy surroundings but instead she stuck out like a diamond in dark mine. She wore a pale purple silken dress the same color as her eyes and its near translucence left very little to Jon's eager imagination. Her hair had grown longer and curled down to her waist in silvery waves. His eyes drank in every inch of her.

"Your highness," Jon gasped, unsure what to say. He stood there like an idiot, Ghost calm at his side.

She dismounted Rhaegal and approached him without a word, she looked at him with a smirk, "You never addressed me as such when I was a queen, why now that I'm not?"

"I—I don't know," Jon wanted to smack himself, he hadn't been this stupid since his first conversation with Ygritte. He had pictured this reunion a thousand times and not in a single one of his scenarios did he come off like a complete imbecile. Val and Sam were sure to find his bumbling hilarious when he told them later. He shook his head," Why are you here—Daenerys?"

He it seemed odd to call her by her first name, Jon nearly choked on it.

She looked down, an embarrassed look on her face, "I don't know."

They stood in silence for a minute before Jon coughed, "Everyone says your dead."

"Do I look like a ghost to you?" She laughed.

No, she looked like a goddess to him, "You look alive and well, where have you been?"

"Is it strange that I had travelled all over the world and had never really seen it? I decided to travel and truly take in the sights. After what happened, I was struggling to remember any good I had seen in this world, anywhere without war, bloodshed, slavery or rape and I couldn't think of a single one. And then I realized, I hadn't just come across a ton of darkness in the world, I had sought it out. I decided I was way over due to seek some good in the world," Her lavender eyes sought his and Jon's heart started to thump madly in his chest.

"Then why out of all the places in the world did you decide to return to this wintery wasteland?" Jon attempted a smile, hoping the joke would ease the growing tension in the air.

She held his gaze, something in her lavender eyes refused to let him look away, "You."

* * *

_"Bran, Bran, wake, my little Brandon," Bran jolted away, he knew that voice._

_"Mum?" He blinked, his vision slowly coming into focus, he saw the outline of his mother, long auburn hair and pale visage. He blinked again, wishing for his vision to come into focus, there was no one he missed more than his mother._

_But when his vision cleared he wished it hadn't. His mother's ghost was pulsating into and out of view with the beat of his heart. Her sapphire dress was stained red with blood, her skin clammy and blue like she had been in cold water. Dark blood dribbled down her mouth and out of a wound across her throat onto her chest._

_Crouched next to him, her hands grabbed his and pulled him up. Her hands were icy and as cold as a corpse and her eyes glazed over, her dark green irises trimmed with a milky blue. She pulled him onto his feet until he was standing over her._

_"Where am I? What's going on?" Bran asked, looking down he realized he was truly dreaming, he was dressed in his Winterfell coats and not his Guild robe, his wheelchair nowhere in sight._

_She attempted to give him a warm smile but it only made more blood and water dribble down her chest, "Oh, my Bran, you're so tall now."_

_It was strange, standing, he hadn't done so since he was very small, when everyone, even Arya, still towered over him. Even stranger was realizing how tall he actually was, he was at least as tall as his father had been and probably only a tad shorter than Jon._

_"Mum, what's going on?" Bran asked again._

_She looked at him sadly, "My sweet little Bran, I didn't want this life for you. Alchemy, greensight, warging, all of this supernatural madness. When I married your father, I knew I was marrying to a different culture of northerners but even in my darkest nightmares, I could never had come up with things you have suffered."_

_Bran gaped at his mother, he had no idea how to respond. When she started to sob, he pulled her close to him, not caring blood and river water began to seep through his coats._

_"I knew you'd never be Lord Stark, Robb would lead Winterfell of course but I pictured you being a knight, winning tourneys, giving your favor to some beautiful Southron girl," Her clammy hands had his shoulders in a death grip and Bran struggled not to buckle under her strength as she sobbed into his chest._

_His heart lurched, "Mom that was never the life for me, I'm no warrior, that's Rickon and Arya's trade."_

_He wanted to tell her he was happy, despite losing them, despite being crippled he had made a name for himself. That he loved his alchemy and that in his dreams he ran with wolves faster than a human ever could._

_As if she had heard his thoughts her grip grew tighter, "Instead here your are, dabbling in dark magics, stealing the bodies of other living creatures in your dreams, half in love with that Crannog girl Meera."_

_His mother pushed him away, looking deeply at his face, scrutinizing him, instead of backing down Bran did the same to his mother. Past the gore, despite the theatrics, he sensed his mother was hiding something._

_"I know this is not just a dream mum, tell me what you're hiding, why are you here?" He gazed into his mothers azure eyes, trying to weasel out her secrets._

_ His mother gave him a warm smile, "You were always the smartest of my children Bran."_

_Her soft words made Bran's heart lurch, "Mum."_

_"I can't tell you what is to come in the future but I can nudge you in the right direction, that bloody bastard is going to get you all killed," She spat._

_"Don't speak of Jon like that! He's been taking care of us! He's trying to raise Winterfell again! I know you hated him for father's transgressions but he's still out brother and we love him,"_

_With supernatural strength his mother threw Bran into the stone wall of his cell, his back cracked and the wind was knocked out of him. Bran struggled onto his feet and his mother flew to him._

_"He's not your brother!" She snarled, she roughly grabbed his shoulders, "I can show you where to find the truth."_

_The world faded around him into darkness and he caught glimpses of the cells of the red keep, flying down the corridor his vision showed him a woman with curly blonde hair and a scar on her cheek, then took him out of the castle to show him the chained dragons, then down into King's Landing he was shown a blacksmith with dark hair and blue eyes. Then his mother dragged him into the sky and the world faded into darkness again._

_When the world began to ebb into existence again, he was at the Neck, directly south of Winterfell. His mother's ghost dragged him through the air and into the swamp of the Neck, darting through the thick trees at breakneck speed. The smell of the leaves and fresh earth overwhelmed Bran's senses as his mother took him to the Greywater Watch. It was impossible for outsider's to find, he remembered Meera and Jojen telling him it was on a floating island in one of the thousand of the Neck's swamps and moved constantly. Unless you were a crannogmen it was impossible to find. _

_But it seemed in death, nothing remained hidden from you for they had reached the Greywater watch. It was beautiful, it looked like winterfell but covered in vines and cloaked in dense fog. His mother floated them through the stone walls and into a great hall. An elderly man who looked a great deal like Jojen and Meera sat at a wooden desk. Bran narrowed his eyes, the elderly man was obviously their father Howland Reed, a man who had been a dear friend of his own father._

_Instead of stopping, his mother pulled him upward, through the stone roof, through the fog and through the dense trees up to see the dark sky. Holding him up with only one hand she pointed with one gray finger at the stars. More blood poured from her wound and she looked exhausted._

_In a strangled voice she whispered, "This is where Castle Greywater will be tomorrow, if you want to know Jon's true origin, you must find a way here. I'm tired my son, I need to leave now."_

_"But—" Before Bran could finish his sentence his mother let go and Bran began to fall again. With a scream, he fell and fell but never hit the ground. A sharp pain began to blossom in his ribs._

Bran jolted awake with a scream, to a man in a gold cloak kicking him in the ribs, he struggled to roll away but his legs wouldn't budge.

Standing a few feet away was King Aegon with a petulant grimace on his face.

* * *

Jon and Dany rode Rhaegal back to Castle Black in utter silence. After Dany's admission, Jon hadn't said a word, instead he had whispered a few words to Ghost and the direwolf had run off into the wilderness, in the direction of Castle Black.

On dragon back, the ride to Castle Black was incredibly short but it felt like it was taking an eternity. To keep himself from getting cut by dragon scales he had fashioned one of his coats into a makeshift saddle but it was slippery and to keep atop Rhaegal he had to hold onto Dany's hips.

Dany was kicking herself, what can made her think she could just come out and say she had come back just to see him? Not only did she make herself look completely stupid, she made herself weak!

The five minute ride felt like it took days and soon they touched down on Castle Black. To Dany's shock she had received a warm welcome and Jon quickly explained everything from Aegon's letter to preparing for war. Dany had nodded, she had been terribly worried that coming here would get the Northerners in trouble with the Seven Kingdoms but it seemed they already had trouble of their own brewing.

Making himself at home, Rhaegal quickly flew off and landed comfortable on of the roofs of Castle Black, it wasn't as warm as the Red Keep but it worked well enough for the emerald dragon and he quickly drifted off to sleep. Rhaego seemed excited to be around people again and had nipped at Jon in greeting once they had landed.

The Starks and their maester were quick to come to Jon's side and Jon left her with his sister's giving her some excuse about paperwork and organizing patrols but she knew the real reason. She had made him feel awkward and sorry for her. Dany had to struggle to keep from smacking herself, how could she have been so stupid?! She quelled the urge to growl in frustration.

"Your majesty," The beautiful Sansa stark curtsied to her and Dany came to understand why men from all over King's Landing spoke of her, the oldest Lady Stark was breathtaking, her hair was a red and wavy as fire and her eyes were a practically glowing blue, "It's a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance."

Dany waved her off, "I am no longer a queen, please call me by my given name, Daenerys, may I do the same to you Lady Stark?"

"Y-yes, call me Sansa," Sansa smiled shocked, she gestured to their maester, a plump man with intelligent brown eyes, "This is our maester, Samwell Tarly. If you need anything you may go to him."

Daenerys nodded to him, "Maester Tarly."

He bowed to her with a polite smile.

Sansa continued her introductions, "This is my younger sister , Arya."

Arya Stark was equally as beautiful but she looked half-wild. In fact, she looked like a female version of Jon but with gray eyes instead of black. She nodded in greating, her eyes looking a million miles away. She was dressed like a man, to her back was strapped a sword and she wore a dozen knives on her belt.

"This is Lord Rickon Stark, heir to Winterfell," Sansa gestured to a boy in his young teens, he had bright blue eyes like Sansa but otherwise looked exactly like Jon and Arya. He bowed to her and she did the same back.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Lord Stark," She smiled and he appeared flustered by her.

"My pleasure," He smiled awkwardly, his voice cracking slightly.

One of the three direwolves nearby howled and Sansa rolled her eyes, "I can't forget the rest of the Stark pack, the loud black one is Shaggydog and I'm sure you've met Ghost and Summer by now."

Daenerys nodded to the Wolves.

"Oh really, you introduce those blasted mutts before me?" A tall, beautiful blonde woman stomped over, followed by an even taller blonde with short hair dressed in silver armor and a light haired knight wearing armor with House Arryn crests. "So you're the woman who has our Lord Commander in a tizzy? I'm Val, most beautiful and strongest female of all the Wildlings and personal advisor to the Starks."

"And the most modest," Maester Tarly whispered under his breath loud enough for them all to hear.

Val ignored him and grabbed Dany's hand, shaking it vigorously.

The Starks looked at the tall blonde aghast and Daenerys burst out laughing, "A pleasure to meet you Val."

She gestured to the people behind her, "This brute is Brienne of Tarth, Lady Sansa's personal bodyguard and this man is mine, Theodren Hunter, knight of the Vale."

The two nodded to her. Dany was shocked that even people of the Vale were here to support the Starks but then she remembered the Starks were somehow related to them somehow. But she was even more shocked at how Val addressed him, she'd have to ask someone about that later.

Instead of letting her go, Val hooked arms with her and dragged her toward Castle Black, "Let me show you around."

The Starks watched Val, shocked, and Maester Tarly coughed, "You can't just roughhouse and bully everyone you meet."

"Just watch me," Val scoffed, she turned to look at Dany, "You don't mind do you, Daenerys?"

Dany was just as shocked as the Starks but kind of liked the woman, in a way she reminded her of the Sand Snakes and even her Dothrakis with her brusqueness , "Not at all."

"See!" She yelled at the Maester before turning back to Dany, "Care to bring the baby dragon along?"

Dany turned to look back to Rhaego, "Do you want to come to Rhaego?"

Rhaego, who was as big as a horse, squeaked happily and trodded over to them. Val led the two into Castle Black with Val's knight following silently behind.

Jon retreated to his office as quickly as possible. After he had shut the stone door he had quickly punched a hole into his wooden desk. Seething, he sunk down into his office chair and thunked his head onto his desk.

She had come all the way North…. for _him._

What was he going to do? It had taken every modicum of his will power not to grab her and kiss her.

Was she here to visit or here to stay? Would she fight with them against Aegon?

His heart thudded violently against his rib cage, when would the qu—Daenerys come to her senses? Even dethroned, she was far above his station, a noble lady had no business with a bastard. Why in the all the world would she come all the way here for the likes of _him?_ At best, they could enter into a liaison but how was Jon going to keep his vows? What would his men think of him and his rules if he broke them to be with the dragoness? He couldn't.

He sighed, he couldn't do this. He had a duty to the Night's Watch and to the Starks. Even at risk of breaking his heart and hers alike, he had to be an example for Rickon, like his father, he had to be a man of honor.

He had to reject Queen Daenerys if she tried to pursue him, not only for her honor but his own as well.

* * *

_**What do you guys think!? Let me know in a review! They make my day! **_

_****__**What do you think of Bran's ghostly vision? Who do you think the girl in the dungeon is? Why do you think Catelyn showed Bran Gendry? How do you think Bran's going to get to Castle Greywater by tomorrow?**_

_**Thanks to Nebbie88 for suggesting longer chapters, this one's a bit long, at eleven/twelve pages. :] Hopefully that keeps all of you satiated until the next chapter.**_

_**And thanks to everyone who reviews! I love them :] especially Bambily1996 for the crazy, long review! Loved it :] Until next time guys! **_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Like always, please review and let me know what you think! :D They make my day and fuel my writing!**_

* * *

Aegon waved for his man to stop kicking the cripple and walked over to kick the cripple himself, "Do you think I'm a fool?! Did you think I wouldn't realize who you were!?"

Aegon screeched, his vision red, the crippled alchemist had taken him for a fool… and he would pay for it.

Brandon Stark's wince turned into a snicker, "Yes, I do take you for a fool, to be honest."

"How dare you insult the rightful king?!" The gold cloak drew his sword and attempted to stab the alchemist but Aegon stopped him when his blade was just a hair's width from his abdomen.

"Stop this, when I want Brandon Stark dead, I'll be sure to let you know," Aegon turned back to his prisoner, "What have you been making me give the dragons? Strengthening potions? Chemicals to make them violent towards my men? Tell me now."

Brandon laughed, "Those are good ideas, I wish I would've thought of them."

Aegon kicked him again and he heard the air leave Brandon Stark's lungs. The cripple wheezed grabbing his ribs, "Well, I think you've managed to fracture a bone or two with that puny foot of yours."

"I'll do more than that if you don't tell me what was in those potions!" Aegon snarled.

"Fine, it was my blood, your majesty, I've been combining my blood with small amount of milk of the poppy to dull their pain from those magic chains of yours."

"Your blood?" Disgusted, Aegon couldn't fathom a logical reason for doing that, "You're sick!"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Brandon Stark gave a humorless chuckle, holding his ribs on the cold stone floor below him, he wheezed.

Aegon snapped his finger at the gold cloak and the man stepped forward and held Brandon Stark in place. Aegon pulled out a black knife. "You've seen dragon glass before right?"

Brandon's eyes widened but it was the only reaction he gave, the Stark man's eyes drifted across Aegon's knife and back into the king's eyes, "If you kill me, my family won't rest until your head decorates a pike at Winterfell."

Aegon laughed, "Oh I'm not going to kill you just yet, I'm considering what you've done high treason and your family and all of their bannermen will pay the price for what you've done. Rickon Stark's time is up, I'll march North within a fortnight and kill everyone you hold dear."

The gold cloak held Brandon's right hand up, Aegon grabbed Brandon's hand holding out the finger that Brandon wore one of his father's rings on, "But not before sending them a little message."

Aegon cut the finger off and handed it to another gold cloak outside the cell, ring and all, "Send that by raven to Castle Black immediately."

"No letter with it, your majesty?" The gold cloak asked.

"I think they'll understand what I'm trying to convey," Aegon turned back to his captive with a grimace. Instead of crying or begging for mercy, Brandon appeared passed out.

"Fainted out of terror did he?" The goldcloak laughed.

Aegon knelt and lifted the cripple's eyelid, his irises were there but his pupils were completely gone. Aegon jumped back, "No, there's some sorcery at work here."

In the distance, a dragon roared, shaking the Red Keep.

* * *

Brienne walked a weary Sansa back to her quarters, the female warrior chatted excitedly with her charge.

"No wonder Commander Snow has been off kilter the last year, I was half-smitten with her myself!" Brienne's squire Podrick laughed almost falling into the wall.

"I think you've had a bit too much ale, boy," Brienne shook her head but couldn't help but smile.

Sansa smiled too, everyone had been celebrating the dragon queen's arrival. Before Aegon, they had all been unsure of their new ruler and a bit terrified by the infamous Mother of Dragons but since the new Mad King had come to power they had realized the female Targaryen was a far better monarch.

And that included Sansa, like Podrick, Sansa was half-smitten with the dragoness herself, albeit in a platonic way. Much like her initial thoughts of Margaery Tyrell, she was absolutely delighted to be friends with someone like her.

Sansa had listened captivated to the stories of Daenerys' travels and her time with the Naathi.

However, the celebration of the evening had been dampened by Jon's absence. And Sansa kept catching Daenerys' eyes trying to covertly scan the room for her brother. And she wasn't the only one who noticed his absence. Sansa asked Brienne and Podrick what they thought of it.

"I noticed, I figure he's avoiding the dragoness, I don't know why though and I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't very curious, didn't you say he went to King's Landing? Perhaps something happened there," Brienne's eyes were focused ahead deep in thought, this was one of the reasons Sansa liked the warrior woman so much, the brutal honesty and shrewd curiousity.

Podrick nodded at his master, agreeing with her, Sansa knew the young man practically idolized his master and she was sure he was going to be a knight within the year.

As they reached Sansa's quarters, Podrick jumped in front of Sansa and opened the stone door for her, almost tripping over his own feet.

"Thank you, ser," Sansa curtsied politely, giggling a bit, and moved to walk into her room. Brienne caught her arm and Sansa turned to look back at her.

"Are you sure you don't need any help milady? You had as much wine as Podrick here."

"I'll be fine Lady Brienne, please just get Ser Podrick to his quarters safely," Sansa smiled. Her guard nodded and ushered Podrick down the hall.

Sansa smiled slightly and closed the door to her quarters. She moved to walk toward her vanity mirror but she was knocked gently back against her door.

Before she could say anything, she felt the tingle of lips at her neck and chills ran down her spine and jolted her awake like cold water.

"I swear if they had followed you in here, I might've had to kill them both," the tall Sandor growled into her pale throat, his growl reverberated through her body making her toes curl, "I've been wanting you the last two days but it's been impossible to catch you alone."

After that night he had snuck into her chambers they had secretly been seeing each other. There was no rhyme nor reason to it, no rational explanation. Arya was sure to hate her for it if she ever found out. She kind of hated herself as well, she knew his past, the bad things he'd done. He was a murderer, one who blindly obeyed his masters and had once cared not for honor or doing the right thing. He could also be called a drunk (though he had stopped as soon as their tryst started).

Sansa would have to say it had been the look in his eyes as he confessed to her. The complete and utter love in them, and the lust as well. How could someone not respond to such utter devotion?

But she knew it was a cop out, she had had a strange fascination with him since King's Landing, fear with a dash of desire she hadn't been able to articulate until she was older. She knew it was bizarre and no one would ever understand but she just couldn't stop it. She almost refused to believe she was falling in love with him.

She may appear to be a lady but in truth she was just as messed up as the rest of her siblings. And she hated herself for it.

Sansa clenched her eyes shut and quelled the urge to sigh, "As if you could defeat Brienne."

"Would you like to see me try?" He growled again, tracing surprisingly gentle kisses down her throat to her clavicle, she melted into him, he stopped at the hem of her bodice, "Would it turn you on more?"

One of his calloused hands had snaked into her auburn curls, running his nails over her scalp and driving her wild. The other kept a tight grip on her hip, as if he feared she'd try to run away.

"I don't know if that's possible," Sansa moaned into his sandy hair and then opened her eyes embarrassed by the sound. He looked up and smirked at her.

"My little bird, you don't need to be ashamed of those incredibly teasing sounds you make," He grinned at her, "Actually you can keep doing so, I do enjoy the color red you turn. Kind of like a tomato I'd like to fuck."

Sansa gasped and batted him away, "Don't talk like that!"

He snickered and grabbed her wrist, she struggled to get away but she knew it was futile. He knocked her onto the bed and within a moment he was on top of her pressing her into the bed, "What are you going to do if I don't stop? Call Jon or Brienne in here?"

"N-no," She stuttered when he resumed his kisses on her neck once more, he knew it was her weakness.

"That's right, you know he'd be honor bound to kill me for soiling such a highborn lady and we'd have to escape in the night together," He started to bite at her neck and she wasn't sure if it was the nibbling or the thought of running off with him that was making her heart beat erratically. "I can hear your heart thrum little bird, does the thought of running off together excite you?"

"I-I can't," Avoiding the question, she sighed, "They need me to take of them."

"You aren't in the Vale taking care of little Robert Arryn any longer, your siblings can fend for themselves," His kissed were getting more forceful and Sansa was starting to feel something hard pressing against her stomach.

"Last time I did something selfish, I begged my mother to betroth me to Joffrey and convince my dad to be King's Hand," Sansa could feel her eyes growing wet just thinking about it, if she could go back she'd have thrown a fit to keep them all in Winterfell. Maybe she'd still have her parents, Robb and Lady.

Before she could stop it, one tear escaped and slid down her temple into her hair, that instant Sandor stopped his ministrations and looked up at her, "Now, don't be doing any of that now, what's in the past is in the past, you have to move on and grow stronger from it."

Sansa nodded and looked into his ocher eyes, and brushed a loving hand over his scars, "Help me move on."

And with that she pulled him back down on her again, planting a forceful kiss on the surprised man.

Sandor laughed and Sansa could feel one of his hands trail up her thigh, "As milady commands."

* * *

Bran felt himself losing consciousness and knew what was about to happen. He hadn't been planning on putting his plan into motion until later but hopefully his little potions had had enough of an effect on the dragons.

He could feel himself sinking but he couldn't see, darkness all around him, he felt himself being pulled down. He struggled climb up, pull himself higher.

He knew what was happening, the three eyed crow had taught him all about it. Warging was a strange thing, if you had a deep emotional connection to the creature you wanted to warg into it was easy, that made Summer and Hodor easy to warg into. The next stage of warging was taking control of wild animals to which he had no connection, such as boars, bears and crows, the more simple minded the animal the easier it was to control, which made humans and other intelligent creatures like shadowcats hard to take over.

One could do it they dared, but they ran the risk of the creature they had warged into taking control and the warg losing their minds. The three eyed crow had taught Bran of men who lost all will to live after spending too much time warging into birds and only longed for the sky. Or men who went crazy from trying to take over another human.

Bran himself had thought he had lost his mind, the one time he had tried to take another human besides Hodor.

_Meera._

The thought made him start to sink again and Bran grit his teeth struggling to kick and pull himself to the surface of the darkness.

What he was experiencing was warring to take control of one such smart creature, a dragon. He had thought feeding them his blood would give him enough of a connection but he was starting to doubt himself.

Bran braced himself, he could do this. He was the strongest warg ever born, born with the greensight and a master in the art of alchemy. He _could do this!_

His eyes opened and were met with the hill above King's Landing, he could see the see gray sea and murky harbor in the distance. His back felt strange, instead of skin he was plated in ebony scales. And vision had magnified exponentially, which wasn't a surprise, it did the same with most animals. What was shocking was the lack of feeling, it was freezing in King's Landing lately and the chill that had had him wrapped in a thick cloak the last week didn't feel like _anything._ In fact, Drogon felt too _hot._

It was strange. Bran was knocked from his thoughts from a hiss, he looked to his right and saw the white dragoness Viserion chained next to him, her golden eyes ablaze.

"You are not my mate," She hissed.

Shocked he could understand her so easily, he moved to defend his actions, "I will give you your mate back shortly, in the meantime I plan to free the both of you and myself."

The cream colored dragoness seemed to be considering his offer while Bran was awed by her beauty, she wasn't white like he had thought, instead she was a creamy color brushed with hints of gold. Her horns, wing bones and spinal plates were the same vibrant metallic gold as her eyes, "And you'd give my mate back to me after we escape?"

"Yes, I need to make a pit stop a bit north of here and after that I'll help you find your queen or if you like you two may just go on your own way after," Bran gave her a toothy grin, "But while we're here, we can cause a bit of trouble for King Aegon if you'd like."

Viserion flashed her teeth at him that he took as a draconic smile.

* * *

Jon sat in his office, rifling through what seemed to be endless piles of paperwork. Power was not what people thought… it was merely lots of paperwork.

Ghost sat at his side and whined a bit.

"I promise we'll go for our run later, Ghost," Jon sighed and put his heads in his hands. Earlier, Val had come by to yell at him for not coming to the welcome feast. Not only that but Arya, one of the wildling chiefs, a few Stark bannermen and a few Arryn and Tully one's had come by to speak as well, the list went on and on. But he had finally gotten a response from his sibling's uncle Edmure Tully with his support too, so it wasn't all annoyances.

All in all, he was feeling pretty overwhelmed, if this is what it felt like to truly lead an army, he wanted no part of it. Oh who was he kidding, despite the stress, he was loving it. Jon gave a humorless laugh and Ghost looked at him strangely.

"What?" Jon asked Ghost.

Ghost laid down next to him, seeming to give up on any sort of a run that evening.

A knock at his door roused Jon from his thoughts and he looked up to Daenerys and Rhaegal padding into his office.

Jon gave her a weak smile before furrowing his brow, "How are you walking around with that thin cloak? We've got three feet of snow outside."

"I guess I don't get that cold," She shrugged and pointed to the wooden chair in front of his desk, "Do you mind if I sit?"

"Whatever you like," He gestured for her to sit, "Lady Daenerys, how can I help you tonight?"

She sat and looked up at the ceiling before looking back to him, "Well, after seeing all of this paperwork on your desk I feel a bit silly, I kind of thought you were avoiding me by not coming to the feast tonight."

Jon's heart started to thump harder in his chest, without missing a beat he replied, maybe a bit too hastily, "And what reason would I have to avoid you?"

She met his eyes and looked away again, "After what I said in the clearing… remember?"

"Oh, I thought you meant you were happy to see someone who hated King Aegon as much as you, that you were here to join with us," Jon put his papers down and met her eyes.

She shook her head, "No, you didn't."

"I'm sorry?" Jon asked not sure he was hearing her right.

"You didn't think that because I had no idea Aegon planned to attack the north until after you brought me to Castle Black, so you had to have known _exactly _what I meant, one because you aren't stupid, you're incredibly intelligent in fact and two because I saw the way your eyes went wide and blushed a bit, no matter how much you tried to hide it."

"Uh," Jon wasn't sure to say, his earlier comparison to Daenerys to Ygritte was probably even more correct than he had originally thought. He wasn't sure what to do with such abruptness.

"I apologize for putting you on the spot, I've come to find you people of Westeros tend to dance around the truth but I find that I have to be honest to get what I want, I came here because I stupidly felt a connection between us and I thought I had nothing more to lose and had no reason not to pursue it."

Jon was flabbergasted; this was his worst nightmare and deepest desire. He wanted nothing more than to jump across the table and press his lips to her in answer. But he _couldn't._

Jon felt like choking, it really wasn't fair.

Jon wanted to growl in frustration, _nothing_ _was_ _fair._

"Are you going to say anything?" She caught his eyes again and refused to let them stray.

"Lady Daenerys, I want nothing more than I want you, I've never felt a temptation like this," Jon broke the stare and looked down at his shaking hands, he folded them in an attempt hide it, he was having trouble breathing, "But I've taken an oath, one I can't break, I have people relying on that, while I'd love to return your feelings, I have a duty to my people."

She sat there, no reaction, "And so you'd reject me for the greater good?"

"Not only that," He sighed, "You deserve far better than me, someone like your Drogo, I'm just a bastard, stuck on this ice wall, a life of servitude ahead of me, I can never hold any title beside commander, never own any land and riches, never marry or father children. I can't provide for you the way you so deserve. I'm not worthy of you milady."

At her silence, he continued, "I've never wanted anything more that I've wanted you but I can't, for the both of us. You're beautiful, smart, brave, charismatic and strong, I have no doubt any man would kill his own mother for a chance to kiss your hand."

"I understand, you have your oaths," She nodded and stood, moving to the door to leave, she stopped at the door frame and looked back, "I want you to know, noble blood or not, I've never met anywhere in all the world, a more honorable, honest and caring man than you, I loved Drogo but I'm coming to find he couldn't even hold a candle to you. If anything ever changes, I'll be waiting."

And she left.

Jon exhaled, it was as if the fire went out in the room, his office seemed cold and dark without her there.

He ran a hand through his black curls, trying to calm himself. Giving up, he put his head in his shaking hands. That had taken more self-control than he thought he had, Commander Mormont and his uncle Benjen would be proud of him for honoring his oath. Many men would have forsaken their oaths the _second_ they thought a woman like that was interested.

Was he being honorable or stupid?

Jon wanted to hit something.

He looked down at Ghost who had been quietly watching the exchange. It might've been his imagination but it seemed even Ghost was looking at him like he was a complete imbecile.

"I think I'm ready for that run now," Jon sighed.

* * *

"How are we going to get out of these chains?" Viserion hissed.

"Quite simple really, these chains are alchemically modified, they're made out of iron but they're imprinted with runes of power, alchemical magic that makes the simple iron mimic diamonds," Bran explained stretching and rustling the chains, "Diamond is the strongest substance in the world, the most powerful creatures in the world can't even break it because diamond's structure is so perfectly aligned and compact for all intents and purposes, they're perfect, utterly unbreakable."

Viserion puffed out smoke in her nose, "I am well aware, human."

"I'm not insulting you I promise! What I was trying to say was that even though the strength is made to mimic diamond through magic and it _seems_ unbreakable, it is in fact _not_. It's truly iron not diamond and iron's structure nowhere near perfect in alignment or compactness. And neither are the runes that the alchemist's placed on them. We find the kink in the runes where they're not completely mimicking diamonds and we've found where to break the chains."

"Then do it, boy," Viserion growled, "My patience wears thin and I want to find my hatchling."

"Completely understandable, if you'd give me a minute," Bran draconic eyes studied the tiny runes cast in the chains.

It took almost an hour for him to free them. Viserion roared in triumph so loudly it seemed to shake the Red Keep and Bran joined her. He'd howled as a wolf but roaring as a dragon was amazing, cathartic, he had never imagined he could be this powerful.

Bran stretched his massive wings growing used to them and he truly realized how large Drogon was, much larger than his siblings. A single wing of his could wipe the Red Keep off of King's Landing and into the sea and single roar deafen every human within a mile. Viserion was only about as big as one of his wings.

"The humans approach," Viserion warned, nodding her massive head. Bran looked in the direction she had indicated and saw Aegon and a whole battalion of his men approaching.

"I guess our roaring didn't go unnoticed," Bran snickered.

"I can't imagine why," Viserion hissed and shot golden fire at Aegon's men. She tried not to burn his men, just burning a few feet in front of them. Her scare tactic worked, his men seemed to lose there fortitude, had they really thought a few hundred gold cloaks could take on two full grown dragons?

"My king, should we wait for reinforcements?" Bran heard a man ask the King.

Aegon ignored him, he seemed to be growing more irritable by the second, a hairbreadth away from throwing a hissy fit, "I will have every alchemist's head for this! I was told those chains were unbreakable!"

Bran rolled his eyes, knowing the king wouldn't carry through, the Targaryen liked all their magical inventions far too much to dispose of them. A few heads might roll but the guild would remain and long as dragons lived in the realm.

"I need to stop in King's Landing to pick up a few things, would you mind helping me out? I believe you might be able to fit in the dungeons a lot easier than I, I'll help you rip a whole in the castle and you can collect the humans I need."

Viserion glared but seemed curious, "And why should I?"

"I'm going to help you find your queen and put her back into power, of course."


	15. Chapter 15

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* * *

Jon and Ghost staggered back into Jon's office, they had run for hours, as fast as their legs could carry them. Jon could hardly stand. But no matter how fast they ran, Jon couldn't run from his thoughts.

He was so stupid but it's what he had to do. He had an oath to keep, his family was relying on him. His father had taught him his word and honor were more important than anything. He owed the Night's Watch.

"Dammit," He collapsed into his office chair, his head in his hands. What was he going to do?

* * *

Dany laid in her bed, Rhaego curled up next to her, his scaley head on her breast. She winced, his horns were beginning to grown in and they weren't exactly comfortable stabbing into her bosom. Nonetheless, she ignored it and pet his scales. She knew he missed Viserion and Drogon terribly, she knew she and Rhaegal were no substitute for his parents.

Maybe it had been stupid to come to Castle Black. What had she been thinking?

After Drogo, loneliness had driven her to take only one other lover, Daario Naharis. And that had ended badly. What had made her think pursuing Jon Snow would be any different?

_ His honor. _

For being a Dothraki, Drogo had had honor too and like Jon he kept his oaths. She was certain it was this similar quality she was drawn to.

Her heart panged, every time she had thought of Daario or Jon she felt like she was betraying her dead husband. She shook the thought away, he would want her to move on. If she had died, she knew he most certainly would have.

She sighed and curled closer into Rhaego.

_Tomorrow._

Tomorrow, she would leave.

She had made one man stray from his path, she had tried to make Drogo and the Dothraki change their ways once. It had resulted in Drogo's death. She wouldn't do that to another man. Jon was a crow and she would let him be one.

* * *

Clawing through the Red Keep had been too easy. Drogon's massive claws had torn through the red brick like parchment. The soldiers of King's Landing abandoned their posts, terrified of the two unhindered dragons. With Drogon's amazing hearing, he was able to hear people pray for Queen Daenerys return, if only to control them.

Once they had torn a hole large enough for Viserion to fit through, the dragoness turn her scaled head to him, "What do you want me to do? Kill everyone?"

"No!" Bran blurted but at her offended look he quickly rephrased, "Please don't, I humbly ask you to grab two humans. A young, pretty woman with curly blonde hair and a bad scar on her cheek, she will be wearing a burgundy dress. The second will be unconscious, a dark haired man in brown robes, o-one of his fingers will be missing."

Bran winced thinking about losing his finger.

Viserion puffed smoke out her nose and Bran could only presume it was out of frustration, "Fine."

"Thank you," Bran nodded his draconic head and she looked at him strangely before entering the Red Keep. Such human gestures were probably incredibly strange to animals. He usually _was_ the animal, he never really had any interaction with other animals besides inside their heads or with his siblings direwolves.

Viserion had made quick work in the dungeons and emerged with his body and the girl. Bran's eyes glazed over her, she was either dead or passed out, her burgundy dress stained with blood.

"Does she live?" Bran asked panicked, he didn't even know why he needed her, he just knew he _had_ to have her, he knew there was reasoning behind his ghost mother's vision.

"She passed out from fright, screamed when she saw me and hurt herself in the process," Viserion narrowed her eyes, "Who is the other?"

"He is me," Bran said cautiously.

"You look normal enough for someone who occasionally steals the body of dragons," Viserion growled.

"Thank you?" Bran wasn't sure how to react, what was a warg supposed to look like? He was sure it was intended as an insult but he knew he shouldn't anger the beast that literally had him in her claws. "We have one more human we need to collect, he's down in the city, if you don't mind."

Viserion nodded flapping her massive wings. Bran did the same and they headed into the city. He clenched his eyes shut, remembering the path his mother led him on.

To no surprise, their presence in the city seemed to cause even more of a wide spread panic.

"Their calling my mother's name," Viserion whispered.

"They're terrified we're going to kill them, they cry for her return," Bran explained.

Viserion nodded her head, looking out to the Blackwater.

"I promise I'll help you find her," Bran whispered.

"I know you will," Viserion growled focusing back on the city, "Where is the last human?"

Bran closed his eyes and replayed the vision in his head, "He will be in the third house in the fifth row, it will be bigger than the one's around it because it's a smithery."

They quickly found it and Bran tore the roof off and was immediately bombarded with something he didn't expect. The smell of Arya. Bran furrowed his brow, odd, Arya had been here. Jon had admitted that Arya had made the attempt on Queen Daenerys life but what had she been doing with this blacksmith? Is that why his mother was having him bring him? For Arya?

That didn't seem right.

The man was sleeping in his bed. Bran sighed and reached into the house with one of his massive claws. Carefully, he scooped the sleeping man up without cutting him. Bran nodded to Viserion.

"Where do we go now?" She asked.

"Follow me, I'll show you," Bran gave her a draconic smile as he pumped his wings and took flight.

Viserion followed suit but not before destroying a statue of Aegon that stood in the middle of the city.

The man in his claws began to struggle, Bran panicked, "What do I do?"

"Just squeeze him enough to where he can't breathe and passes out," The dragoness looked at him like he was stupid.

"That seems a bit inhumane," Bran complained but did as he was told.

"Inhumane? Is anything about you human at all?" Viserion growled.

"I don't know anymore," Bran led her North as the sun started to rise.

* * *

Everyone at Castle Black was asleep still.

But not Rickon.

He had more important things to do.

He swung his sword at his dummy, wincing as the metal hilt dug into the blisters on his hands.

The last three Lord Starks had met their gods before their time.

But he wouldn't, he'd live as old as damned Walder Frey had.

It had turned into an obsession. He looked at Shaggy Dog off to the side.

"Do you think I'm working myself to hard?" He asked the black direwolf.

Shaggy just barked.

"Let me tell you something about working hard, brat," Rickon turned to see his sister Arya approaching.

She stopped just a few feet from him, "When was the last time you slept?"

Rickon couldn't remember, "I sleep a little bit here and there, power naps really."

She shook her head, "You need to sleep, dumbass, if you don't your mind will turn to mush and your reflexes will be shot."

Rickon beheaded the dummy and threw his sword down with a growl, "Don't you see? I don't have time! War is upon us! I can't fail you guys! I have to get stronger! I have to make father, mother and Robb proud!"

Arya was silent for a moment, "You were only three or four when father and mother left Winterfell, do you remember them well?"

"Would you think me horrible if I said I couldn't even remember what they look like?" Rickon sighed, without his sword in his hands he was starting to feel sleep weigh down on him.

Arya drew one of her swords, _Needle,_ the tiny little blade Jon had made for her when she was a child. A sword that was way too small for her now, "Pick up your bloody sword."

Rickon did as he was told and looked at her in confusion, "You plan to duel me with that thing?"

"If you beat me in a duel, you can carry on and do whatever you like, anyone else's opinion be damned, if someone has a problem with what you do, they'll have to deal with me personally," Arya gave him and evil grin and started to circle him like a wolf ready to attack, "But if I win, you will sleep as long as I want you too and then you will be subject to my training."

"Your training?" Rickon asked, he had been subject to her training before.

"Not with the sword, I think Brienne of Tarth and the Hound have been good about teaching you that. I'm going to teach you how to not fight hard—but smart, which is a thousand times more important. Deal?"

He remembered her sword training, practically daily beatings, Rickon nodded, he would kick her ass.

He lunged at her with his sword, she easily parried with _Needle_, she grinned, "I take it we have a deal?"

Rickon grinned back at her, striking with all of the moves Lady Brienne and Sandor had taught him. She easily blocked them all, he was already a great deal taller than her and probably a lot stronger too but her speed was unparalleled.

In fact, she looked bored blocking his strikes.

"How are you so fast?" Rickon growled.

She rolled her eyes, "I knew this would happen, you're slow. Brienne of Tarth and the Hound are excellent swordsmen but they're crippled by their impressive heights and strengths. I don't have either of those, I have to rely on smarts and viciousness. I won't let you be cripped by your height, I'll make you the best warrior in Westeros."

* * *

It didn't take long for Arya to tire Rickon out, the boy was already half dead when they began. She couldn't help but being disappointed how slow he was. Eventually, she got so irritated she just knocked him unconscious with _Needle's_ hilt.

She hefted the young teen over her shoulder and carried him back into Castle Black. After a good eight hours, she'd begin his training.

* * *

Bran looked at the sky, they were making excellent time.

He knew they going to make it to the Greywater just after nightfall.

He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Meera again, having done something so unforgiveable.

He had been in love with her since he had met her, awestruck by her beauty and strength.

But she was promised to another and on her wedding night he had warged into the body of her husband.

She had known immediately, bursting into tears.

Bran had felt lower than dirt, never before had he seen the warrior woman cry.

_"Bran, I know it's you, why do you taunt me this way?"_

He clenched his eyes shut, trying to shrug the memory away.

He had a goal, he was meeting with her father, not her.

* * *

Jon woke with a start, he had fallen asleep at his desk.

Ghost was nowhere to be found and somehow his window had blown open. His office floor was covered in snow.

An icy hand gripped his shoulder.

"Hello Jon."

* * *

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